The Ice Storm
by LaaLaa
Summary: Sometime after Weekend In The Country, Pacey and Joey spend their sick day together and get into all kinds of trouble.
1. The Ice Storm -- part 1

_"It was one of those days when it's a minute from snowing. You can feel this electricity in the air." - Ricky, American Beauty_

It was a horrible Friday already. Joey's stomach turned and she could only breathe out of one nostril. Not since 3rd grade had she ever woken up sick. After a quick shower, she left the house with half-dry hair, despite the bitter cold. 

This was the last time Bodie would be able to take her to school because with the B&B up and running, she'd have to walk from now on. That morning, she heard the news said something about a storm brewing so that made her thankful that at least she didn't have to walk today... then again, she didn't exactly trust her life in _Bob_. 

At first it felt like the flu and she was convinced she could handle that. Just one day and then she was home free. Home. The thought never sounded more wonderful. 

Trying to continue with her morning rituals, she struggled with the heavy blue front doors and slowly walked up to Dawson's locker, trying not to trip over her own feet. By now, her nose was running a marathon, her eyes were brimming, her throat was scratchy and her temperature had been flip-flopping between hot and cold since she got up. She groaned. It was strep, she was sure of it. 

"Ohmigod, Joey, you look like you're going to collapse," Dawson dropped his messenger bag, took her shoulders in his hands and inspected her face. 

"I'm just a little... you know... it's _fine_." She _was_ fine. She needed to be fine because missing school was definitely not on her ticket out of Capeside. 

"No, I don't think so... I'm taking you to the nurse." Joey was never one to admit being wrong though. 

"No, Dawson!" she protested. "My GPA won't be able to survive another absence and I have Mr. Stinson's crucial US History unit test..." 

"You're certain?" 

"I can deal. Trust me." Dawson slammed his locker shut and checked his wrist watch. Knowing he'd be late he still walked with her to her first hour to make sure she got there alive. Screw English, he thought. 

"Um, where's Pacey?" Joey inquired suddenly, not seeing him at or around his locker. To be honest, she felt kind of offended. If he was skipping again, she would've gladly gone with him. On the other hand, he kept himself pretty closed off anyhow. They were both guilty of that. It was their way. 

She did remember the one time when he told her of his little league nostalgia, as if she didn't remember. She was there with her mom and dad, and Dawson and his parents, in the stands as always. They were always more supportive than his real family - with the exception of his mom, of course. His dad was just too involved with Doug, _Doug_ was just too involved with Doug and his sisters for the most part were just self-serving bitches that had more important things to do... like guys. 

"Pacey... he woke up and puked. Maybe you got this bug from him," he joked. When they reached Chem, Dawson left for class after giving her a supportive hug. 

For the first half of the class period, Joey was wide-eyed and painfully awake. How could she be otherwise, considering how arctic it was in the classroom? The second half was another story... her mind started to drift and the words in her book started to blend together, as if she was going cross-eyed. Joey started to consider the idea that maybe it was pointless to be there physically and not mentally because she hadn't understood a word of the lecture. 

By third period, Joey had had it. She was sniffling and hacking throughout the history test so as soon as she handed it in, Mr. Stinson gave her a blue pass to the nurse's office. 

She looked sullenly at the plump nurse who was completely unaffected by the pale teenage girl standing in front of her. She'd seen tons of kids turning green and exploding this morning, this one was no different. Nurse Unqualified directed her to the sick room, her face expressionless. 

"Heartless bitch," Joey muttered under her breath, wallowing in self pity. 

"Another sickie," a random guy lying in one of the cots wheezed. God, she couldn't stay here! She'd catch something she didn't even have yet! But she was stuck. Bessie or Bodie certainly wouldn't pick her up in the middle of the work day in only their second week of operation. 

The only person left to call was... Pacey. She knew he'd be well enough to pick her up and she wanted to fool herself into thinking he was her last resort - even if he was - but she did like having another excuse to spend more time with him. They always had fun in their own weird, twisted, passive/aggressive way and though he was still a doofus, it was safe to say they'd broken into the ranks of being full-fledged friends of late. Full-fledged, dysfunctional friends. Joey decided upon it and shuffled up to the cream-colored free phone near the bathroom to dial him up. 

The phone rang at Pacey's and it startled him. He shakily put his bowl of soggy Lucky Charms on the coffee table, kicked off the afghan around his legs and turned down The Today Show with the remote. 

"H'lo?" he answered gruffly. 

"Pacey?" Joey's voice was weak. Her headache was intensifying by the second and she wasn't on the Tylenol list, so she couldn't receive medicine from the school. She wondered if she'd woken him up. 

"Joey?" Pacey stayed on the line, expecting her to say more than his name, but when she didn't, he started in again. "You need something? Because I'm kinda busy being bored." 

She replied with a nasty cough. 

"Whoaaa there, you okay? You sound as shitty as I do," he said softly. 

"_No_, I feel as wretched as I sound... I can't stay here at school... Do you- do you think you could-" 

"Yeah, sure, I'm on my way, meet me out front in 5 minutes," he cut her off abruptly and hung up. "Thank you, influenza." Pacey smiled big, squished his sneakers half-on, grabbed the keys to the Witter wagon jeep and zoomed out the door. 

Joey sat on the front steps of the school with her elbows resting on her knees. She involuntarily smiled at the ground thinking of Pacey's impressive response to her being ill. Honestly, she knew he cared about her, just never really knew he cared like that. But he was also the worst driver she'd ever had the displeasure of riding with, illustrated as he zoomed into the closest parking spot possible and nearly knocked the Visitor Parking sign completely over. She could just see the headlines now. JOEY POTTER: THE RIDE OF HER LIFE. 

Pacey was pretty proud of himself being so punctual and honked the horn repeatedly to make sure the other students would turn around in their classrooms and look out the window, crazy jealous. Making a face as he witnessed her hobble towards the car like an elder he considered carrying her honeymoon-style to the car, if he wasn't so weak himself. Then he laughed to himself. That'd be weird. 

Joey clambered in, put on her seatbelt and immediately pulled the side lever to recline the chair as far as it could go. She rested the back of her hand on her forehead to block the brightness of the bright gray morning clouds that covered the sun completely. Pacey rolled his eyes at her dramatic southern belle pose but reached over the gear shift and lightly touched her arm, "Hey, I guarantee you'll live. There is light at the end of the tunnel." 

"You're sending me straight towards that light then. You're the one who infected me with this devil virus," Joey jutted her jaw, peeked out with one eye from under her arm and shot back. Why was it so cold in the car, she wondered. She could see her breath dissipate around her in a curling smoke. 

"Did I _ask_ you to chug my Pepsi like a frat boy? Noo... Look, I'm sorry if you're feeling extremely fluish and have apparently acquired a severe and bitchy side effect, but this wasn't my doing." He motioned towards her bulky outfit and grimace to emphasize his point and then his eyes went immediately to the road again. 

"Well apparently you've never been graced with the flu before because, newsflash Pacey, this isn't the flu. If this was the flu, you'd be totally bed-ridden because every single muscle and bone in your body would ache like no other. You certainly wouldn't be up to driving. This is something new, horrible and confusing. I can't decide whether I want to run laps or faint into an oblivion. In any case, I think this _is_ your doing, Not-So-English patient." Joey looked out the window at a fat man in a jogging suit and then secured her scarf around her neck. 

"I rescued you from the hell otherwise known as Capeside High's very own leper colony and all you are capable of doing is slicing into me? Scaling new heights of Mount Ungrateful, are we?" Pacey said as he briefly glanced up into the rear view mirror and changed lanes. 

She just sighed and positioned her coat over herself to get warmer. It was freezing. 

"No. I take it back. You're also getting skilled at pissing me off." 

"Turn on the heater. I feel like meat in here." Joey's face contorted in discomfort and extreme annoyance. The digital clock blinked 1:10 but it hadn't been set for daylight savings, so it was only 12 something in reality. 

"No way, it's broiling," he said even though he eventually switched the heater on to high for her. "Fine. God forbid you reach up and do it yourself. Wouldn't want you to Andromeda Strain yourself or anything." The gust outside was so strong, you could hear it. It whooshed the car from side to side like a Hot Wheel and now Pacey kept extra-tight grip of the wheel. "Station selection suggestions now. I say classic rock." 

"Alternative it is." 

"Haven't you heard of a little thing named compromise, Miss Daisy? You can try, but ya can't argue with Oldies." Pacey rotated the old dial till the red nub landed on 94.9. "This song is awesome," he remarked and turned it up. "It's the time of the season...." Pacey sang out in a voice that wasn't his. Joey laughed a little. It wasn't a good idea because it kind of hurt to do so... not that she cared. 

"Oh my god!" Joey exclaimed suddenly, causing Pacey to jump in his seat. 

"What?!" He screeched the car to a halt, thankful there was no one behind them. "What- what is it?" 

"Pacey, pay _attention_, will you!? You almost hit a cat! A black cat. It's an omen. I know it." Pacey looked up from her and to the road at a cat walking leisurely across the road. Damn cat. 

"Will you please keep your omens to yourself while I'm driving? This road isn't exactly utopian," he said impatiently and took his foot off the brake. 

"Neither are your driving skills," she said collecting her breath. 

"Look, do you want to take the wheel, Stick-Shift-Barbie? I didn't hit it, that's what matters. I'll be extra careful from now on, promise. How about a little brunch for the ailing? Mickey D's? My treat," he peered sideways at her. Joey did her best to glare and keep a straight face but quickly spun her head away and made her hair fly in his face. "Come now. You better answer... don't make me serenade you with 'Love Me Tender.' Don't be cruel." 

"Okay, okay..." she pursed her lips, fighting their upward curve, as if she was denying with all her might that there was any kind of smiling action taking place on her face. 

"More like it," Pacey nodded, as his mouth split into a wide grin. 

"And you bet your ass it's your treat." Joey's face broke into that reluctant smile again, but she bit her lip and turned away once more to shield it from his view. 

They drove past the yellow arches and veered into the drive-thru. Pacey yelled out the orders for the old raspy man at the intercom, but his voice cracked with the falsetto of 10 pubescent boys, so they decided that Joey and her powerful lungs give it a try. 

Unfastening her safety belt, she got on her knees, grabbed onto the driver's side window and leaned over Pacey, who wasn't complaining. Joey's slender neck was right so near his mouth and she smelled so sweet and intoxicating. As much as he fought it, his body quickly responded. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head, she smelled incredible. Her breasts rested lightly on his left arm for a moment and he sat on his hands to prevent him from losing it and touching her. "Holy shit..." he breathed helplessly, hoping she hadn't heard. Maybe she'd take it as a sign that she was hurting him... She was. 

The heat from Pacey's body radiated through her clothes and she didn't feel so frigid anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact. Joey heard him wince and took it as a sign that maybe she was cutting off a major vein... Her legs tensed up, which only made her position even more awkward, so he wiggled beneath her till she was in a somewhat comfortable position. She freaked herself out that she was gaining the slightest sort of pleasure from the closeness and chalked it up to PMS. Or something. "2 Big Breakfasts! Yeah! And 2 small coffees! Oh and a small fries! Yeah that's all, thanks." 

The heat shut off as they rounded the corner. Joey had turned it off. "I'm really-You're right, it um, it is kinda hot in here." Pacey felt the icy breeze from the window he rolled down all the way, and with Joey... off of him, he was feeling chilly now himself. Tiny flakes of snow started to fall on Joey's side of the car, which wasn't covered by the awning, and he clicked on the windshield wipers. 

At the window the man and Pacey exchanged the food for the money and the man gave him a long, odd stare. Pacey was, after all, only wearing a pair of baggy charcoal-colored sweatpants and a faded, bluish-gray, Big Dog t-shirt. 

They approached the crosswalk and Pacey grabbed a fry from the bag without looking. They agreed that fries always tasted better in the car, for some unknown reason. Together, they finished up the little bag of fries before they reached the third stoplight. 

"Uh, my house is that way... Where the hell are you taking me?" Joey asked, whipping her head around. They were going the opposite direction of her house. She hovered over the steam from her black coffee and took a small sip that burned the tip of her tongue. 

"Makeout point …where do you think? Home. Casa. My house. No way I'm gonna swing by your house and then go back. I'm too tired." Pacey gathered his breath, only realizing now how much effort it took to lie to her face. After all, he'd only done it three times at the most. The radio skipped a few beats before sailing into 'Brown-eyed Girl' and she turned it up. 

"And your parents won't care if I come over why?" 

"They just don't care, period. Plus, my dad's staking out some warehouse and my mom is visiting Grandma in Boston," Pacey said. 

"Oh." Joey positioned her seat upright again and didn't object. It seemed like her headache was melting away with the snow on the window. 

"You know, Jen's out sick today too." 

"Really? That sucks.... Illness aside, how is Jen? Lord knows you know her better than I do, what with your pacts and all," she added briskly. 

Pacey knew to ignore her underhanded, under-the-breath comments. They were just as much her defense mechanism as smart-mouthed ones were his. "She's good. Actually, have you met her new maybe-beau? Quite the persistent young freshman." 

"Ah, her very own personal Urkel, I see. Lucky her." He chuckled. "Wait a second," Joey turned her body at the waist and fished around in the back seat pulling out an old black book with gold lettering. "I have an overdue book in my bag - can we swing by the library real quick? Since it's right here." 

"Sure thing." He signaled and parked near the library. They ate their clumpy clusters of scrambled eggs and syrup-covered pancakes with the cheap McD's plasticware quickly, watching traffic pass by on the main road. Afterwards, Pacey pulled on a fleece jacket lying in the backseat and his stomach grumbled, a little queasy from the Big Breakfast. Walking up the concrete steps with little shimmery flecks in them, Joey's hair whirled around her face and their cheeks grew rosy from the cold. 

Both strolled in and Pacey went up and down the aisles judging books by their covers while Joey went up to the front desk to return the Freud book she checked out a month ago. Freud. Maybe she was brushing up on her sex theories, Pacey grinned. He breezed past the aisle containing The Joy Of Sex. That was the _last_ thing he needed to read before getting in the car with her again. Hmm, this one looks interesting, Pacey thought. The worn, purple book spine read Nifty G- and the rest was covered by the call number tab. Nifty Girls? The cover read Nitty Gritty. Pretty obvious what his mind was on. Still recovering from Joey's McDonald's order. 

Joey made her way up to the book deposit bin and dropped it in. She'd been studying some Freudian theories because Bessie's Danielle Steel novels were wearing pretty thin on her patience and intelligence. Ahead of the counter, she smirked to see Pacey skimming the shelves in the Sex Tutorial aisle. She suddenly broke out laughing. 

"Is something funny?" the librarian looked at Joey like she was psychotic and put her hand up to her poodlesque, beehive-ish 'do. 

"No," she said, watching Pacey come on to the display mannequin modeling a girdle for a period book. "Hi, doll," he put his arm around it smoothly. 

Approaching him from behind, she poked his back with her finger harder than she intended. 

"OW!" Pacey said in his outside voice and the librarian nearby reminded him to use his inside one. "Easy, tiger." Man, sick or not, she was still powerful. 

"Since we've made this super-regression week, we might as well complete it. Act half our age and all..." There was a glint in her eye that he hadn't seen in a long time. 

"Which would make us," he paused, "7 and a half?" 

"Did you divide that all by yourself?" she said with faux awe. 

"And how do we go about doing that?" 

What possessed Joey to do what she did next she'll never know. Probably the illness acting... maybe she was going schizo. Quickly, she tagged his arm and ran past three tall bookcases behind him. "You're it." 

Overcoming the shock and amusement, Pacey came after her with a smile and veered into dead end after dead end. They tried so hard to keep their laughter silent but sputtered a couple of times darting in and out around the new computer lab and through the lounge, making it easier to track each other. Two musty librarians finally grew tired of chasing and shushing them both so they asked them politely to leave. "Sorry, sorry, our bad," Pacey apologized profusely but laughed under his breath and ushered Joey out the door. "See? Consequences shmoncequences." 

The biting cold hit them like a brick wall when they swung the glass doors open and started down the steps. Before they headed home, Joey insisted they visit the swings on the playground across the street. "Please?" she purred and grabbed his arm with both hands. 

"Yeah, how 'bout we not? I think you're faking sick, that's what I think. Listen, I know how badly you want to spend every waking hour with me, but you could've picked a more opportune time... say, when I didn't feel like puking up a lung." 

"Oh yeah, Pacey, I don't think I'll be able to keep my pants on much longer," she feigned yawning and pushed him away. 

"I'm joining yearbook just so I can quote you on that one." Pacey looked back at her, his ears already furiously red. "Alright. But on the next available occasion, we're going along with _my_ snowy day activity." 

"Not if it has the word 'strip' in it, we won't." Joey slipped her gloves on over her numb fingers and Pacey shoved his hands in his big corduroy coat pockets. 

The awful metal chains of the swing numbed Pacey's hands and his ass literally stung from the cool plastic seat, but he swung anyway. Joey however was dipping in and out of the tire swing trying to get situated. He got up from his seat and decided to help her out. "Amateur. You stick both legs in the middle, remember?" 

She did so and he pushed her forward and spun her around till she felt more sick than before, but in that delightfully dizzy way. From the fact that the world was spinning, they decided they'd both had enough of that - and after Pacey got all the sand out of his shoe, they began the trek back to his house. He had absolutely _no_ problem starting the car again... it only stalled 7 times. 

Joey hadn't been to Pacey's since they were about 8 or 9. She tried to recall what the house looked like, but all that was coming to her were memories of the fishing trophies Doug and his dad kept in the living room in a giant display case and their new little black Labrador puppy. Pacey wanted to call it Spike, but his sisters outnumbered him and called the poor dog Pookie. It was a boy dog, for God sakes! Back then, she thought Spike was a far better choice and she still did. Shivering, she and pulled her peacoat around herself again. Pacey turned up the heater. 

The rocks underneath the tires crackled as they drove up to the house and into the garage. Their Christmas lights were still up, the snow was sticking fast and the driveway was blotchy white. Pacey loved how even the crappy houses in the neighborhood with the peeling paint and uncleaned gutters looked just like everyone else's when it snowed. Everything looked like a postcard. 

They shook off their sneakers at the door and stepped inside. Joey looked around inside and memories came flowing back to her one by one. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn, so the house was dark, but the same old couch was sitting in the middle of the room. There was the same 70's style kitchenette, home of Mrs. Witter's famous "food" disasters. The same old trophy case leaned against the north wall, only now it seemed tiny because Joey'd certainly sprouted a few feet since 8. Their big 80's TV trimmed with wood where they'd watched many a classic episode of Sesame Street, was still right in front of the couch. In fact, there was a lot of wood around that Joey could just picture his mother spraying Pledge all over. She laid her coat on the couch and surveyed the room, picking up framed pictures of the Witter family. Only two of Pacey, she noted - one with his father when they caught that giant fish the year before and one when he was little, forced to pose with Doug on a moped against his will. 

As she looked around, Pacey disappeared into his room and snatched an oversized navy sweatshirt out of his middle drawer, just in case she needed it later. He on the other hand, thought he was going to drop like a fly, it was so hot. And he was still baffled as to why she didn't stick it out at school. Instead, Joey called _him_. It was good to know she knew he was there for her whenever she needed him, but what did she care if she polluted the school with strep? She said herself on many occasion her classes were full of assholes. More importantly, how long was it going to be till she'd tell him she wanted to go home? Not soon he hoped. He walked out of his room and flung her the sweatshirt which she promptly put on. "Thanks." 

"No problem." They plopped themselves down in front of the TV with their feet resting comfortably on the table, much like Pacey had done this morning. He launched into an explanation of the beauty of daytime television and Joey sat trying to listen intently and keep a straight face. He made hand gestures and his brow scrunched up in the sexiest way. Pacey? Sexy? She felt her forehead. Must be fever. She finally pretended to nod off, rested her head on her shoulder and snored. He chuckled, "Okay, I get it." 

The View came on and they turned it off. In their considerably weakened states, their minds couldn't tolerate such crap. It wasn't even entertaining crap, just crap. Pacey opened the plain wooden door to his room and Joey had to step in between the clothes (which he insisted were clean) strewn all over the shag carpeting. "Lovely. Where do you keep the pigs?" she peered in his slovenly closet. It was such a boy's room. 

"Hey, not everyone gets to have their bedroom remodeled everyday, missy," he said while picking up a few items and throwing them in the hamper. He had a blue and grey comforter and numerous posters around his room. Tom Green poster above his headboard and a Bruce Springsteen one on his closet door, a far cry from Hook and 1941. "Girl Scout cookie?" Pacey offered and held out the neon orange box. 

Mmm... Caramel Delites... she thought. No, better not. She put her thumbs in her jean's back belt loops and slumped her shoulders. "I'll have to pass. At this rate, I'm going to be the next 600-pound woman the firefighters have to cut out of her house on Springer." Joey'd already bought a whole batch from Chris Wolfe's little sister and her family was consuming them at an alarming and unhealthy rate. What, were there addictive drugs in those things? 

"I saw that one! But for some reason, I just don't see a miu-miu-wearing, bed-ridden, fried chicken-eating life ahead of you, Joey," he said simply as he munched on a Samoa. She was thin as a rail and curvy in all the right places and it bugged him to no end when she ragged on herself. In fact, she could be a freaking model if she had better posture and didn't _completely lack_ self-esteem. 

Pookie wandered into his room and began to sniff up Joey's legs and lick her shoes. Joey stood stiff until Pacey pulled him off of her, shook the dog's head and scratched his ears. "Don't be such a wuss, Potter. Relax, he's harmless." 

"Yeah, Cujo's charming," she spat. She wasn't so sure Pookie would remember her, considering she couldn't remember this house. 

"There's uh, there's nothing to do in here... Ooh, I have an idea," Pacey rubbed his hands together craftily. The beautiful scene outside inspired him. 

"Oh no," she groaned, "an idea? You do not have a good track record with 'ideas.'" 

"Hush, woman. You're not having your cold flashes right now, are you?" 

"I'm burning up actually..." Joey furrowed her brow sensing an impending plan. 

"Then I believe it's snowman time!" he declared as he took her wrist and led her down the hall to the living room again. 

"What?!" they stopped and she asked him to clarify. 

"Would you rather snow angels? Or a snowball fight? C'mon, there's snow and it's not meant to sit there and look pretty." 

"No way. It's far too cold outside." 

"Tough bananas! You just said you were hot! Another season, another reason, for makin' snowpeople," he proclaimed. 

Joey's head tipped back in laughter. "What is wrong with you! You're demented!" 

"I'm aware," he smiled and wouldn't take no for an answer. She snuck a cookie before they exited earning a nod of approval from Pacey. No existing human willpower can resist Caramel Delites. 

"Oh and call me 'woman' again and we'll all be calling you the same," Joey added as they left the room. 

They decided on snowmen and snow angels because what good were snowball fights when there were no neighborhood kids to face up against (not to mention kick the shit out of)? Plus they required significantly less effort and they were still 'sickies' after all. 

It was the first snow in New England - no doubt the latest first snow of the year they'd ever seen. Pacey and Joey suited up with the necessary accoutrements. Gloves, check. Cute hat, check. Heavy coats, check. Big ass scarves, check. Carrot, check. Stepping out onto the fluffy front lawn, they felt their age instead of say, in the middle of a mid-life crisis for the first time in a long time and not only planned on absorbing that feeling with every bone in their bodies but fully intended on making it last. 

"See? It's nice out. And if you get cold, just say the word, and we bolt back inside," Pacey guaranteed. 

"Fine, but if hypothermia plagues me, I swear I'll haunt you," Joey scowled, even though she'd already begun gathering snow in her gloved hands. 

It was just past three o'clock now and the sun was peeking out through the clouds periodically. The snowflakes had gotten larger since morning and the only sound was of snow falling, which was no sound at all. It was Pacey's favorite part of winter weather - the calm before the storm. 

They rolled a giant ball and packed on more snow once they got it stationary, then two more on top. Soon, it was time to add the carrot, two perfectly round rocks from the driveway and two long sticks snapped from the big oak that she, Pacey and Dawson used to climb. Pacey poked the ice sculpture in the sides with them carefully. "The guy needs his arms to wrap around his snowhoney." 

Joey sat on the steps and shook her head while she watched Pacey shake hands and attempt to make conversation with their guy of snow. She was tired already, but he was like an Energizer bunny today. Even sick, you couldn't keep him down. 

"Get up! We're making snowangels like we planned." 

"I'm tired! Make one yourself," Joey whined. 

"A deal is a deal is-," he picked her arm up and tried to pull her up, but she felt like lead, "a deal." When she protested a second time, Pacey picked her up kicking and screaming and slam-dunked her into a snowdrift just like a basketball. Laughing and cursing, she sat beside him and wagered on who would form the better one. "But you have the advantage... I'm no angel," he grinned wide. 

"Oh riiiight. Your angelic ass is mine, Witter." They stood and surveyed their work. Naturally, Joey's was deeper on the right side because she'd kept on leaning over sideways to look at his. Pacey did a little victory dance and nearly tripped over his oversized pants. 

"Ahh yeeahh, who's the man? I believe that's me!" 

"I don't see a man anywhere," she mock pouted and threw an iceball at his chest. 

"Well, you don't have to be a fetus about it." In an attempt to make up the small loss, Pacey dragged his foot across the unused space and drew her full name in the perfectly smooth snow in large, crude letters. Right as Joey got up to examine it, something furry ran over her feet and she screamed, and when she screamed Pacey screamed. As soon as they saw Pookie scamper across the lawn and ruin it, they both felt extremely foolish. 

With time to kill, they rolled out two rusty bicycles from the garage and rode up and down the street for a few, letting the wind carry them. The sky was grey and the chill in the air stung their faces like needles. The breeze still whirled them around but they swerved and sped down the hill and it was so much more exhilarating that way. Joey took this as an opportunity to ask him a mystery she'd been trying to solve for a while. "Doesn't it hurt?" 

"When I... fell from heaven?" Pacey said as he tried to untangle his hands from the old streamers on the handlebars. 

"Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I said," she rolled her eyes. "No, moron, bikes. For guys. I mean, your goods must be damaged, if you know what I mean. Doesn't your crotch, like, kill?" Joey said with the frankness and audacity she once possessed. That was the first mere mention of sex or things involved since... she didn't even remember. She used to be so outgoing, in that spunky, smartass way, saying whatever came to mind. That's how she met Anderson. That's how she rid herself of Warren Geary and Grant Bodine, and that's how she used to converse with Pacey. Ever since she and Dawson had started playing tonsil hockey, she'd suddenly become shy about it - not that that was Dawson's fault . She just... she didn't know. But she was feeling like herself again, especially bantering with Pacey. It just came naturally. 

"You just pick a side and you ride," he said smoothly. Only Joey would dare ask a question like that. Maybe since he hit puberty, he'd always found her feistiness incredibly sexy. And he'd always had sort of a thing for her. Not as strong as now... unrequited love had never bitten his ass this hard before - but from the time he relentlessly pulled her pigtails in 1st grade, he felt it. The undeniable attraction. Pacey turned around just in time to see the parked green Volvo he was about to slam into. 

Their gear unloaded, they peeled a majority of their clothes off and tossed them into the dryer. He stood there in his boxers and t-shirt, and Joey in her jeans and the tank top she wore underneath her cardigan. Maybe going out in the snow while sick wasn't such a good idea. Pacey felt more feverish than ever and he immediately regretted undressing because the way he felt about her was just so much easier to hide with layers. 

Joey thought she was delirious. Insane because because she'd been thinking of Pacey's arms and how he picked her up with such ease. She hadn't expected such strength from Pacey... Did she take any medication this morning, she asked herself. She did have to admit though, that today she was having the most fun she'd had all year... maybe ever. And the day wasn't even over yet. 

It was about 2:40. Pacey picked up the cardboard box in the hallway filled with Campbell's cans and string beans that his mom bought in Y2K precaution for them to peruse and put away. "I am starving." 

Joey grabbed two chunky chicken noodles and set them aside for lunch while Pacey clicked open the dishwasher for two bowls and spoons. "Why is that not surprising?" she said dryly. 

"Ahh yeah, that's the stuff," he said appreciatively as he took the first sip. The soup didn't fill him up at all, but it was hot food so he couldn't complain. Joey inhaled hers then wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin. For dessert, he had a monstrous popsicle craving so he opened the freezer and stuck his head in. 

"Get me one," she demanded. The cold made her voice raspier and he couldn't help but smile into the fridge thinking about it. 

"Well, when you work your charm like that, how can I resist? Yeah - grape, orange or what?" 

"Cherry?" she said and blushed as soon as the word escaped her mouth. Smooth move. 

His ears turned the color of the popsicle as he handed it to her and returned to his original seat. Why hadn't he seen this coming? Now all there was left to do was witness. 

She unwrapped it carefully as not to drip anything on herself and put her mouth around the tip, slowly licking it up and down. Oh sweet Lord. Pacey began to writhe in his chair with an excruciating look on his face, as if he was dying of pleasure and pain at the same time. Was he going to survive sitting here watching her... do that? It had to be karma, he thought, because now it was her turn to watch him squirm. Did she have any _clue_ what she was doing to him? Obviously not, because Joey continued to stare into space, thoroughly enjoying her cherry popsicle. 

The wind made the branches rattle against the windows. It was getting blustery outside and everything had a white haze. He wondered what would've happened if his parents _were_ to come home - how they'd react to him having a pretty girl, in his house alone with him. But they knew Joey and how she would never do anything remotely... like that... with him anyway. Not to mention that his family never noticed him anyway. There was no reason for them to start now. 

Joey positioned herself down on the couch ready to channel surf again. Blowing past some trash talk shows she settled on the news. Expected hail and sleet! It made her feel extra lucky to be warm, pretty happy and baby-free in Pacey's house, snickering. It wasn't that she didn't love Alex, but some days when he wouldn't cool down, she swore she'd drop kick him into the creek... 

Feeling suddenly nostalgic, Pacey walked in with an armful of photo albums out from his parent's bedroom and Joey promptly smiled. "These oughta tide us over till Chip & Dale's Rescue Rangers comes on," he explained. 

Starting with the big, brown leather-bound one in both their of their laps, she gazed at the photos while he was much more interested in her face. Joey suddenly exploded hysterically and he gave her a 'the hell?' look. She pointed to a unhappy little boy in a floppy pink hat sipping tea with his sister. "Is this little girl who I think it is?" 

"Yes, that... that would be me." He looked down embarrassed, forgetting that was in there. "Never let it be said that Pacey Witter is no Mr. Sensitive," Pacey said ashamedly, "One of the pretty perks of having three sisters and a homosexual brother." 

"I don't remember when you started that whole thing! You really shouldn't joke about that anymore, with Jack out and all." 

"Listen, Jack's fine with it. And, if Doug was gay, I'd definitely be the most supportive. It's just something I say to get a rise out of him. Purely shits and giggles." 

Joey nodded in comprehension. "I have a thing like that with Bessie," she smiled. "Well, it only worked when she was pregnant with Alexander. Bodie and I used to tease her about how gargantuan she was getting - kinda cruel, considering all of those mood swings and insecurities, now that I think about it..." 

"Yeah, I see what you're saying..." Pacey said, now giving his brotherly teasing some serious thought, though Doug wasn't going through any emotional crises that he knew of. It all started out because he was always envious of Doug getting all that admiration and love from their father. When he was little, he swore he'd be "a police," but what was the use? He'd never get the love and admiration Doug had from the start, being the first born boy. Maybe it was time for that part of Pacey to grow up and let go of the fact that out of the five of them, he got saddled with the middle-child syndrome. But it definitely wasn't time to grow up. Not completely, not yet. 

"But I _am_ good at it. I mean, who could forget 'Oompa Loompa'?" Joey smiled. 

"Classic," he laughed. Pacey turned the page and pointed out another. The three of them - Pacey, Dawson and Joey - trying in vain to give Pookie a bath. The dog was shaking while all of them blocked their faces with their pudgy little 3rd grade hands. "Is that a Kodak moment or what?" he asked her wistfully. 

Joey pointed at the glossy one beside it. "That's us. The three dorketeers," she joked. In the picture, 10-year-old Pacey's arm was tight around both Dawson and Joey's necks and they didn't seem to mind. They gladly smiled big and cheesy for Mrs. Leery. Joey remembered her teensy, brief little crush on Pacey back in grade school, which she attributed to the time her parents made her watch When Harry Met Sally with them and considered the fact that they didn't get along either at first. Her palms went clammy and she discreetly recoiled them in her big sleeves. _How_ embarrassing. 

The pictures of all three of them were making Pacey feel even more guilty than he already did for having these weird feelings that he couldn't control. He knew Dawson and Joey mutually agreed to move on, but would he be betraying Dawson immensely if he were to take action? Would kissing Joey be like defying the law of gravity or something? Would he go straight to hell? Completely hypothetical of course. And him agreeing to that whole, 'Sure, Dawson - I'll keep Joey warm for you while you go out and about with Eve' thing was bad enough. To be patronizing enough to think she wasn't strong enough to handle rejection from the one and only Dawson Leery. But if it hadn't been for that, they might never have grown closer, so he was thankful for it. Not wanting to think about it further, Pacey jumped back into the conversation. "You mean you didn't think my jean jacket was the definition of cool?" 

"What can I say, you just couldn't pull it off like Zack Morris could," she laughed, then coughed. 

"Always had a thing for those blond boys, eh? Well, you're no Kelly Kapowski yourself." 

As if on cue, the phone rang and Joey jumped up and walked behind the counter to answer it. "Hello?" 

"Joey?" Dawson's surprised voice came loud and clear over the phone. "Uh, is Pacey there?" 

"No, I'm jacking his house for all it's worth - of _course_ he's here, hang on." Joey passed the phone to Pacey as she realized she should've let him answer it in the first place. It wasn't that they were doing anything wrong... but she couldn't understand why she was overcome with massive doses of heinous guilt for merely being there. 

Pacey cleared his throat. He knew who it was the second she exchanged looks with him. It wasn't a good look, or a bad one, but he could just sense who it was. "Hey D, what's up?" 

"Hey, I just called to say my mom won't let me out of the house to bring by your homework because it's extremely icy on the streets. She made me come home right after school and I've been here arguing with her about it for about an hour... So I thought I'd give you the page numbers for pre-calc. That's really the only class you need and you have all weekend to do it... so you picked Joey up from school?" 

"Yeah, is that some kind of a problem?" Pacey said, though he really didn't feel he needed to ask his permission, his voice came across a bit defensively. "She called me from the nurse's office so I sped right over," he clarified himself in a better tone. 

"Oh, just wondering." Dawson didn't care really, it was just... weird. "Um, okay, it's 256, numbers 21-41 odd." 

Pacey jotted it down on a post-it and set it aside. If he wasn't so preoccupied with his conscience, he would've gagged at the thought of homework, or school for that matter, on a Friday afternoon. "I gotta go. Thanks a lot, man." He hung up and she and Pacey just looked at each other for a moment, but both skillfully recovered. 

They milled around more bored than ever-and they refused to play any type of board game at all so Pacey suggested good old-fashioned prank calls, but with a twist. One of them gave the other a surprise number of a company with an extremely goofy name. 

"Okay, got one. 555-4593." 

"This better not be phone sex," Joey warned him, as she began to dial. 

"No, no, of course not. The number for that is 1-9-" 

She cut him off and waved her hand around. "It's ringing." 

"Phones tend to do that." 

A burly voice came from the end of the phone. "Hello, this is Big Greasy Monkey and I'm a greasy monkey. How can I help ya?" 

Joey burst out and slammed the phone down immediately. "You are the definition of immature, Pacey. My turn, but this time, you have to keep the person on the phone as long as possible." 

"With my dazzling people skills? No sweat." There was something about getting totally clueless people on the phone and keeping them there that Pacey found so exhilarating. He absolutely loved it and she could tell. Finding a satisfactory number, Joey covered up the black and yellow ad in the giant book and pointed at it. He speedily dialed and waited for someone to pick up. 

"The Gap," a tired employee answered flatly. 

"Hiya." 

"Um, hi." 

"Do you like Rainbow Brite?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"I'm the president of the Rainbow Brite Coalition and I've heard you like Rainbow Brite, so we were wondering if you were interested in joining our cause." 

"Sir, can I help you with something pertaining to The Gap?" 

"Oh God, please join! Or the rainbow gods will get angry and whip me with their rainbow whips!" 

"What??" 

"I said, my banana wants to talk to you. He's heard wonderful things about you. Hang on." Pacey held the phone to his chest. "This is great, you gotta do this next," he whispered. He was so enthusiastic he looked all of 7-years-old. Joey couldn't help but giggle silently as he unclasped his hand from the mouthpiece to speak up again. "He says you're very nice." 

"Um, good." 

"So. Does your green-striped sweater come in banana-size?" 

"This is The Gap, sir," the voice grew more frustrated 

"Yes, I've fallen into a gap and, coincidentally, I have a gap between my two front teeth. When can I schedule an appointment to get it filled?" 

The Gap hung up. Pacey insisted she try it, but she got up to go to the bathroom, laughing. A few minutes later, Joey emerged and joined him on the couch while he checked out the news again. High wind gusts with speeds up to 70 miles per hour... The footage looked more much severe this time. 

"Y'know, I don't think we can make it out of here tonight, Jo. The snow plows haven't even showed up on our main roads yet and it's pretty nastilicious. Yet another advantage of living in the middle of nowhere," Pacey turned his head to face her and pointed at the television with the remote and she sat down beside him, their thighs touching. He wasn't stretching the truth just to keep her there either. Capeside was smack in the middle of a seriously wicked blizzard and there was no way he could get to her house without skidding off the road. 

"Are you suggesting I sleep here?" He put his index finger on the tip of her nose and tapped his own with the other hand. Joey stood up quickly. "With _you_?" 

"Is that such a sin? It's not like I'm gonna try anything," Pacey drawled innocently and stood up as well. 

Joey wasn't sure she could handle this. She'd had too much fun and enjoyed being with him too much to treat this normally - not to mention the fact that she was thinking about him in frightening new ways today. 

"It really is too late - you should've said 'Pacey, get me the hell out of here' while you could. Now you're stuck with me," he reasoned. She sighed smiling, turned around and threw her hands up into the air, which he took as a yes. 

Pacey's room was freezing now because it was at the end of the house and two walls were exposed and she was getting chills again. He suggested they'd put out blankets and sleeping bags in the family room and sleep left to right and Joey agreed. She'd slept platonically with Dawson for years. This wouldn't be any different... right? 

The only light was coming from the kitchen and the flickering TV. Outside was pitch black and noisy. Hail was rattling on the roof and gusts of wind still made the trees knock heavily on the whole house like unwanted visitors. Joey called Bessie and told her the quarantine arrangement for tonight (which Bessie happily obliged to - she didn't want Alex to get infected) and Pacey tossed her a pair of flannel pajama pants along with his sister's old pink-trimmed Care Bears t-shirt to change into. He stood idly by, forgetting she was about to strip causing Joey to stare back at him. "You mind not ogling me? This isn't a free show," she whipped him with the pant legs till he reacted. 

"Uh, yeah... sorry," he stuttered and turned around to hide his red face. "I think I have some change in my room though." He was trying really, extremely, very hard not to think of the possible ways she could've been naked behind his back. 

She laughed and told him to shut up as she changed into the pants. Her bra was extremely binding and she couldn't tolerate it anymore, so she pulled it quickly out from her sleeve to wrap in her jeans. She gestured, raising up her bra-in-a-blanket. "Done." 

The TV suddenly flickered off and they both looked at it. How polite that the power chose such a moment to go out. 

"You wanna hit the sack?" he said, though he wasn't tired at all. It was only just before 9:00. He just wanted to avoid any more awkwardness, though he knew _that_ wasn't possible. "Not like we can do anything now." 

"Waaait a minute. If you sleep in the nude, I am _out_ of here and I don't care if I have to _walk_ home." 

"Hey, though I am perfectly secure with my body, exhibitionism isn't my bag, baby. You on the other hand..." Pacey trailed off, teasing. 

"You're implying it's mine?" Joey asked incredulously. 

"You're quick." 

"Delusions of illness. You have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Oh, but I think I do. I seem to recall many occasions on which we played naked football in the mud when we were kids, took baths together, went skinny dipping in the creek, uh..." His eyes went upwards as he thought of more evidence. 

"Well, things have changed, Pacey. I have female organs now in case you haven't noticed." Joey took a seat on the ground atop a big green sleeping bag. 

He'd noticed. Noticed was an understatement. If she thought he couldn't tell she was without a bra, oh how wrong she was. 

He ignored her statement, which she took as another, 'Oh yeah! Joey's a girl! Forgot.' 

"Relax, the Virgin Joey's eyes won't be tainted by my bulging manhood tonight, I promise. But do you mind if I take this off because I swear this room is like a sauna." Pacey proceeded to take off his shirt in one swift motion and wiped the sweat beading down the back of his neck. Joey gulped and stared down at his chest, smooth and defined. This was the closest she'd ever been to a guy this undressed since last summer, and Pacey and Dawson hadn't really filled out then, so that didn't count. But now... she... she hadn't _realized_. Turning away, she pretended to be really engrossed in the lint on the blanket. 

"Is there a problem, Potter? You want me to-" 

"No, I- of course there's no _problem_- don't flatter yourself," she snapped abruptly and obviously bothered as he sat on the couch and reclined. Nice Joey, she thought with self-loathing. First of all, he called it and she was mad about that. He was right; she was uncomfortable - and not even in an unpleasant way exactly. What a prude she was. And, once again, the boy/girl thing was going to get in the way of another friendship? Why did she have to get all John Hughes on everyone? The tension was so thick you could reach up and grab a handful of it. 

Pacey soon joined her on the floor and seemingly went to sleep immediately... he _was_ pretending after all and when he felt her eyes on him, he flipped over. She was such an easy target, yet she knew just how to get him back - he could always count on Joey to challenge him, keep him on his toes. 

Joey propped her head up in her hand with her elbow and watched him sleep. Damnit. She was going to dip his hands in warm water, but ew, she had to sleep there and that wouldn't be pleasant. Ditto with shaving cream. She heard once that if you tell people things in their sleep, they respond or even do as you say. That notion seemed promising. She decided to give it a try, but as soon as she opened her mouth, he uttered something incoherent. He did it again, only this time a little clearer. Tentatively, she put her ear closer to his mouth until he thrashed and tossed. "Ohhh Joeyyy!" he exclaimed before he opened his eyes, chuckling. 

"Buttplug!" She smacked him numerous times and then turned around. 

A few minutes passed, and they faced opposite directions with their eyes wide open. 

"Pacey... Are you awake?" she said quietly. 

"Now I am," he lied, turning around. He'd been awake for a while. 

"I'm hungry," Joey stated with less quiet and more whine. 

"So your stomach informs me. Me too actually... we had a pretty light lunch." 

They had the balance of eggs at this point. After struggling to get up several times, they remembered a way from grade school - they put their feet together at the soles, took each others' hands and pulled each other up simultaneously. Joey giggled under her breath at the mental picture of pudgy little Dawson trying this, falling over and always ending up with his legs swinging in the air like a turtle stranded on its back. They stumbled into the kitchen blinking through squinty eyes, trying to adjust to the light and their padded feet didn't make a sound on the linoleum floor. 

"Let's take a peek at the Witter gourmet, shall we?" Pacey waltzed into the kitchen pulling open drawers and cabinets with ease. "We got Beanie Weenie, Spaghettios, SPAM..." he listed. 

"I think I can whip us up a little something," she said nonchalantly. 

"Didn't you like, flambeau the Thanksgiving turkey? Mrs. Ryan had to come through with a backup bird, remember?" Pacey opened the fridge and pulled out a Sunny Delight. He remembered that outlandish lie he told Dawson last year about Joey cooking for him and then their cozy trip up the coast to a B&B. That was right before he told Dawson, a bit bitterly if truth be told, to get over himself and make a choice because Joey obviously had. 

"Bessie burned it. My mom, and Bodie for that matter, taught me everything I know, but I don't openly express that fact because if Bessie knew, she'd make me her food slave." 

"And you didn't say something earlier because?" 

"You didn't ask," she shrugged. "Okay, I just wanted soup." Joey also didn't want to mention that the last time she cooked for someone (Jack), it didn't turn out too perfectly... 

"You waiting on me hand and foot. I like it." 

"Ugh, please. I am not cooking for _you_, I just don't happen to enjoy foods with the word 'Weenie' in them so if you'll kindly get out of my kitchen," she pushed him into the living room where he found the couch again. Thank God the power was back on for the moment because he turned on late night Springer and wrapped the blue comforter around him. Christ, it was cold. 

"How's spaghetti?" she called from the kitchen counter opening into the family room. Alright, Joey realized, so she was cooking a little for him. He'd done a lot for her today, a good meal wouldn't hurt. 

"Spaghetti? Ooh, gourmet." Spaghetti sounded awesome, actually. 

"Your kitchen resources are kind of limited, Pacey. Unless you have your whiny heart set on filet mignons, in which case I can do wonders with SPAM..." 

"Point taken." This was so nice, he thought. Not Joey cooking for him, although that was definitely something he could get used to, but the fact that she'd stayed here this long, that she wanted to be here with him. As friends of course, but he'd decided a long time ago that he'd take what he could get. 

While Joey waited for the water to come to a boil, she sat herself next to Pacey and exclaimed in hysterical horror, "This guy has bigger breasts than me!" She was referring to the drag queen in the leather bustier and whip on the show. They laughed out loud and it was a good thing it didn't hurt to laugh anymore, or she'd be on her way to the hospital. This was the epitome of delightfully unclassy television... Now she knew what he was talking about when he lectured her on the merits of trash TV. "I'm Cheating On You With a Transvestite" was written at the bottom of the screen in green cursive. 

"First of all, no. Secondly, think of it like this. Whether his cleav is fake or not, it's sad either way," Pacey said. "Man, whenever I start to think my family is weird, I watch this and realize it's not so cataclysmic." 

"Ditto. But, ugh, enough of this," she said and reached over him for the remote control. "I can only take so much before I get depressed that they actually have dates." 

"You have such low tolerance, but you'll learn, my child," he put his hand on her shoulder which she glared at and then instantly shrugged off. 

Pacey stayed in the living room and watched more television but finally even he couldn't stand it any longer. Though his tolerance was considerably higher than Joey's, even the master has to give it a rest sometime. He went upstairs in search for something mindless to do. The house was one-level and there were only two rooms upstairs: his oldest sister's and one was the spare that his grandparents used to stay in until they moved to Florida. He figured the latter would be the best bet for entertainment. As he made his way up, the power went out for a while. 

"Pacey, c'mon, what are you doing up there?" Joey said from the kitchen. 

"Not even within the realm of your business." 

"Whatever," she called out as she added salt to the boiling water on the gas stove in the dark. 

He went into the spare room and opened the closet with all of his grandparents' old clothes deciding to try on a collared shirt and a shiny grey pinstriped suit that looked so worn, he swore it could've survived the Ice Age. The lapels were so big he felt as though he was wearing reverse water wings. Walking over to the full-length mirror behind the door, he looked himself up and down and liked what he saw for once. He wasn't town slacker clown, Pacey Witter anymore. He looked like a famous actor getting ready to go before the cameras to play the role of distinguished European businessman and lover, the leading man. Pacey could dig it, he thought as he smiled at his reflection and the dim surroundings. 

"The spaghetti's almost ready..." Whatever he was doing, she thought, he'd better get his little ass down there fast or the spaghetti would stick, and she may have forgotten his house, but she remembered that he loathed clumpy spaghetti. Joey wasn't wild about it either. 

Pacey unhooked one of the ties that looked like a blue-and-red-flecked kite and looped it around his neck. He had to remember the technique his mom taught him when tying a tie. Over, under, then around... how'd it go again? Damnit. He struggled to make it look decent when he swung around he found a brown eyebrow pencil on the top of the oak drawer across the bed. Probably one of his sister's when she used to use Granny's big mirror to apply her prostitution makeup. Pacey couldn't believe he was doing it, but his transformation was complete - a moustache. 

Soon he walked down the stairs and made his grand entrance. "Hello, gorgeous," he said and looked her straight in the eyes. 

"My God," Joey gulped and stumbled backward a little. Her eyes bulged significantly and for a moment he thought she was going to drop the pot of spaghetti. She had set the dining room table and two leftover Christmas candles were burning in the middle of the table so it was pretty shadowy, and that made him look perfect. 

"Spiffy, no?" he said suavely and rotated. 

Getting over the initial surprise, she snerked at the drawn-in moustache - and she wanted to shoot back a snippy comment about Halloween, but she couldn't bring herself to. He looked pretty damn fabulous. And here she was in his homely sweatshirt and worn-out pjs, feeling the frumpiest she'd ever felt in her life. She took a deep breath. She wanted in. Two could play at this game - and there was no way in hell she'd sit down with him while he got to wear that. "Watch the sauce on the stove. I want to take a look around upstairs." 

Joey peeked in one room and it was almost empty except for some dusty exercise equipment so she used her deductive skills to point her to the other one. She looked in one side of the dank closet and pushed aside several suits similar to the one Pacey had on until she found several beautiful vintage dresses. They were all pretty racy and she smiled to herself thinking of Pacey's grandma in any of these now - the image was pretty amusing. Joey undid the zipper of a tasteful red rayon dress, lay it on the quilted comforter and tried it on, but when she looked in the mirror, her boobs were almost hanging out. So then she tried a wool blue, form-fitting dress with a turtleneck, but that was too _unracy_ for her taste. She wanted to look as good as he did. Finally, she opened up a trunk at the foot of the bed and lifted up the most gorgeous pale yellow dress. How very Cinderella. She slipped it on, secretly praying it'd fit her and it did, perfectly, except for a temporarily stuck zipper. For effect, she swept on some makeup from a drawer, stuck on some heels she'd found in the closet and grabbed a giant flower off the dresser and pinned it in her hair. Never in a million years did she think she'd ever do something like this. It was crazy, but she loved the person she was with Pacey, all the insane things she did when she was with him. 

The sauce had come to a boil four times and he had to keep shutting off the heat because the red goo was spilling over the edge of the pan. He sopped some spillage up with a paper towel and slammed it into the trash can. "Hurry up, will ya, Jo? This is getting messy!" his panicked voice came from downstairs. She figured he'd already flamed the kitchen down and put out the fire by now. 

"Cheer down, I'm coming," Joey's voice came from the bedroom, as if he didn't know what she was doing. 

He finally shut off the stove and went into the living room. Pacey planned to put the TV on for the umpteenth time that day, and he was mad as fuck because the spaghetti was congealing in the pot and if ever there was a thing that blew, it was congealed spaghetti. On top of that, he remembered the power wasn't back on and the TV was completely unresponsive to the remote. He sat tapping his feet and twiddling his thumbs like he was waiting impatiently for his dinner date. 

"Good evening, Mr. Witter," came this sexy voice from the stairs. 

She stood there and Pacey couldn't believe his eyes. He knew she had been rummaging through some of Granny Witter's old rags but he hadn't expected that she'd owned things this nice. Joey stood wearing the satin gown with thin straps and a neckline that was the lowest she'd ever worn... and makeup and high heels and a giant light pink flower in her hair. She looked like one of those random beautiful girls in the paintings starving artists on the docks sold during tourist season. She looked amazing. 

"You look... wow," he said searching for his breath. He never knew a simple dress and a single smile could be so mesmerizing, so... _erotic_. 

Joey licked her lips and smiled wider. "Yeah?" she said slowly, disbelieving but pleased. 

But then Pacey did something unexpected. He let out a growl and started toward her. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He took one step toward her and she automatically took one step backward. She almost tripped on her dress when she squealed with laughter and ran back up the stairs with him right after her. 

"Stop it, Pacey! You're not being funny here, you're not!" her voice was shaking with laughter, not to mention the stomping up the stairs. 

"I am a handsome European businessman, and you are in love with me!" he said in what he thought sounded like a damn good European accent. Not from anywhere specific, just European, for sure. 

Joey tried to hold the creaking wooden door to the bedroom shut, but his strength forced it, and she ran to the far side so there was only the bed between them. 

"Come to me, my darling!" he outstretched his hands in a wildly dramatic way. 

They were both laughing so hard they could hardly speak. 

"One kiss is all I ask!" 

She went for the door, but unsuccessfully because he caught her and threw her on the bed. 

"One kiss!" 

"Pacey, you ass, quit it right now. I'm not kidding!" Joey started laughing again, right in his arms. He planned on squelching it with a kiss and gently lowered himself on top of her but stopped short. She licked her lips again. Her hair surrounded her flushed face and her soft red lips was so close to his, he swallowed a groan. They just looked at each other, confused, chest to chest, face to face, and somehow they weren't acting anymore. 

* * *


	2. The Ice Storm -- part 2

She looked up at him but said nothing, waiting for him to say something, to react. Her chest was heaving and Pacey was just too stunned to move. She swallowed, hard. There was no logic in her mind, no conscience anymore, all she realized was how much she wanted this, how she wanted to be close to him. God, she wanted him to kiss her, to touch her so badly. 

"I, uh, think we better go downstairs," Pacey said finally in a cracking, breathless voice. It had finally come to a head - he was reaching a breaking point and fast falling into the trap he created for himself by bringing Joey here. Fighting this for years, now it was flying right up in his face - literally. He should've just stuck to the plan trying to get Joey entirely immersed in Dawson again so he could shut the pain of being with her - or rather not being with her - out of his mind, should've just disconnected himself from her life and undo the damage he'd already created, but he couldn't make himself do it. Apparently, he was too weak to distance himself... because just loved being with her too much - loved her too much. He looked away. Eye contact just seemed like a very bad idea because he was sure she'd see the attraction in his eyes. 

Joey wanted to say something or do something but before she could react, he took her hand and helped her up. They both reluctantly walked down the stairs in confused silence. 

The big plate of spaghetti in Joey's hands hung above the table. "Dinner is served," she announced. They each sat at opposite ends of the table with the candles burning away. Pacey figured he might as well complete it and got up to pour some wine his mom kept hidden away for special occasions into some long-stemmed glasses. For a few moments they just sat looking at each other, him with his silly moustache and her with the flower in her hair. 

"You look utterly ridiculous," Joey finally informed him, forcing a laugh as she lifted her glass. She wasn't much for any kind of alcohol and wasn't sure him drinking was smart either. They were more-than-friendly drunks. Maybe they could finish what they started though. 

"I know by 'ridiculous' you mean 'unbearably sexy', so I'll take that as the compliment I know it was meant to be," he said dryly as he straightened his tie, not really knowing how they'd be around one another after his stupid stunt. He was just glad he hadn't caused any severe damage. "My new mission in life is to find a job where I can wear this every day." 

"Sorry Pacey, but I don't think that pimp classifies as an actual vocation." 

"Au contraire, I am a European business man," he stated and took his first sip. She glowed golden and her whole face just lifted when she smiled. He didn't think it was possible, but he thought she looked even better by candlelight. Pacey's moustache faded to nothing after he took the first forkful of spaghetti and wiped his mouth with a napkin. The spaghetti wasn't fantastic - congealed, after all - but her company more than made up for it. 

Joey couldn't believe she was sitting with him. The candles flickered and made his eyes kind of sparkle. Even more unbelievable, if it wasn't Pacey she was with, this is what she'd consider a highly romantic dinner. Not just movie-romantic. This felt real. She was beginning to think that maybe Pacey was the reason behind that... and she didn't feel at all crazy about having those thoughts about him anymore. 

They finished up their meals and put the plates in the sink as the lights flickered on one by one. Then he held out his hand with a grand flourish. The smirk on his face implied he'd planned the entire thing, though she knew that wasn't a possibility. He was on a roll with the 'ideas.' "Whaddya say, Potter? Care to put those Starlight ballroom moves to good use?" Pacey's casual tone contradicted his exaggerated gesture. She took his hand and smirked. 

"Not until you wipe that red sauce off of your chin." 

"Well, geez, thanks for pointing it out _now_," he wiped his lip and then led her out into the living room again by her hand. Pacey quickly picked up two CD choices from the dusty leftovers of Doug's collection off of the mantle: an 80's compilation he'd bought from a late-night infomercial and Streisand's Greatest Hits Volume II. "Hmm... such quality..." Joey said sarcastically, "80's, no contest." 

"Ah, the music of our youth," Pacey chuckled as he popped a CD in, but he didn't know that though Doug was a neat freak, he wasn't careful about which CDs went in which case. 

As soon as the well-known beginning chords began to play, she cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. "Smooth, Pacey." He let a few more notes of Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get It On' play before he started the real music, though he wasn't feeling too sure of himself anymore. He bowed and she curtsied cheesily in return. 

_I can't fight this feeling any longer   
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow   
What started out as friendship   
Has grown stronger   
I only wish I had the strength to let it show   
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever   
I said there is no reason for my fear   
'Cause I feel so secure when we're together   
You give my life direction   
You make everything so clear _

They kicked off their shoes and came toward one another apprehensively, and when neither knew how to initiate movement, she gave in and stepped on both his feet like she did the very first day of lessons. "Youch! Hey, give me fair warning next time, Twinkletoes." Pacey smiled and put his hands securely around her waist, and this time, Joey made sure their ribcages were touching. 

_And even as I wander   
I'm keeping you in sight   
You're a candle in the wind   
On a cold, dark winter's night   
And I'm getting closer   
Than I ever thought I might _

Both barefoot now, she danced atop his toes until he bitched about the pain and then settled for classic style. Maybe it was the sexual tension. Okay, so it was the sexual tension. When they danced, they were either so tense they were hardly moving, or they were so awkward, they danced into walls and practically fell down. He too stepped on her toes once or twice, which finally garnered a response. "Ow! Box step! Has the 'flu' impaired your memory?" 

And I can't fight this feeling anymore   
I've forgotten what I started fighting for   
It's time to bring this ship into the shore   
And throw away the oars, forever   
'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore   
I've forgotten what I started fighting for   
And if I have to crawl upon the floor   
Come crushing through your door   
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Unfortunately no. He still remembered the evil eye Dawson had given him when he'd gotten the crazy impression that he and Joey were sleeping together. That was all kinds of harsh. "How could I forget such amazing skill? The style and grace of our 'mating ritual' as proclaimed by daughter of Freud herself." 

"Yeah, what was that all about? That is the most flawed sexual theory I've ever heard in my life! So we can't dance, big whoop. If she was more astute, she would've pointed out your Oedipal glances at her," she teased. 

"Too perky. Not my type." 

"Too perky? What about And-" Joey stopped mid-word, feeling sorry she had brought her up. "Sorry..." 

"No, it's okay. Believe me or not, but we've moved on. I _am_ over it. The same way you're... are you over Dawson?" 

Joey paused and gave it some thought, trying to word it just right, but she still stammered. "It's weird... I think- Yeah, I think I am. I mean, we both decided it was best to move on, and no matter what I do, he'll always be a vital part of me, but we just... I'm not sure it's meant to be - romantically anymore. Definitely not right now, anyhow." 

Pacey just sighed and tried to smile. He knew it wasn't the truth. Zack and Kelly broke up tons of times before the big cheesy shmoulmate wedding in Vegas. Same thing. He didn't even know why he bothered to ask because he knew the answer. A few more seconds passed before they heard the phone ring and broke apart like they'd been electrically shocked. 

Pacey fumbled as he picked it up with clammy, cold hands. Joey turned down the music. "Animal house, Pacey speaking." 

"Hello, little brother," Doug's voice dripped with disdain Pacey hated the way he over pronounced his words, especially the 't's' in 'little brother.' 

"Well, if it isn't Deputy Doug. What brings 'round your call at such an hour?" 

"It's 12:00, dumbass. Anyway, I have to pick up something up at home so is the spare key outside underneath the mat?" 

"Hey, you have your own place. Why would I defy dad and allow a near stranger into the Witter household?" 

"Stop your punkass whining and just do it. Is that my CD?" Pacey hung up. 

"Doug's on his way to get something. God, I hate that guy." 

"I better go into hiding then." Joey turned around and started to clean the table up and Pacey shut off the music, then walked over to help her. "Or actually, I should go..." If she stayed there any longer, who knew what they'd do? 

"No," he said with conviction, "no, you don't have to go. In fact..." They put the rest of the dishes in the sink and she followed him to his room. "Do you know what'll really get Dougie's blood boiling?" he grinned, mischievously. She eyed him suspiciously. 

"Uh-oh. What's that smile of yours?". 

"I have an idea. Take off your clothes." She glared so icy, he almost felt the chill. "I know your first impulse is to be as negative as possible, but hear me out here." 

"I'm listening." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and he whispered his devious plan of attack in her ear. Not quite sure why he was whispering, since there was no one around yet, the sensation still gave her goosebumps on the back of her neck and on her arms. As he reached the end of the explanation, Joey blushed wildly. "Not on your life! No way!" she gasped. 

"Yes way! Pleeeeease? It'll drive him mad and it's not like we'll be doing anything worse than we've already done." He clasped his hands and then got down on his knees and embraced hers as he'd always done when he was jokingly desperate. 

She never could resist that crazy smile of his, and she knew that if she didn't, she'd be letting him down in the main thing he liked about her. Everything at home, school - everything in his entire life imposed purpose on him. She was the only one that thought his ideas weren't _totally_ insane. A smile of her own was creeping upon her lips and she nodded slowly. What the hell. Joey never liked Doug much anyway and she'd enjoy this. She sighed. "Okay... Let's do it. But you owe me big." 

Twenty minutes later, Doug parked the squad car, grabbed the spare and stomped the snow off his shoes. He was crazy for leaving the precinct in this weather, but he had that butch macho rep to keep up. The door sharply opened and he stopped short when he heard a ruckus coming from down the hall. What the hell was that?? Probably one of Pacey's pornos. But without music, _there_'s a rarity. 

Blindly, he walked to the kitchen rummaging for food as that was actually the 'thing' he had to pick up. The road to the supermarket was solid ice, so he figured it'd be safer to just go and stock up on food at his dad's. Looking through the soup can box, he swore he heard a girl moan Pacey's name. 

He must've really been in dire need of rest if he thought someone was in there with his little brother. 

But his suspicions were confirmed when the same cry was heard in accompaniment with Pacey's own heavy breathing and the banging of a headboard violently against a wall over and over. 

Lord, did that little twerp actually find a girl desperate enough to do it with him? And they were doing it here in the house? That little punk was going to get it, Doug thought furiously, on their father's behalf. When Dad's away, the rat will play, apparently. He walked down the hall and leaned against Pacey's door and sure enough, a girl's distinct voice was screaming in pleasure and Pacey's voice intertwined with hers. The female voice sounded almost like... nah. Doug got on his hands and knees for light underneath the door and there was none. He couldn't believe this! Pacey was only 16! And all this could only mean one thing. 

Suddenly, the door swung open and sharply slammed into the opposing wall. "The two of you stop what you're doing **RIGHT NOW**!" his voice boomed, and Pacey and Joey looked in the doorway at him, half-expecting him to have pulled a gun on them. 

The room bloomed with light to reveal Joey and Pacey's faces cracking up and Doug's angry one. Doug looked up at Pacey, clad in his former pajama attire, who had obviously halted himself from jumping up and then down on the bed and Joey rolling on the bed below him in the Care Bear shirt, laughing. 

"NOT FUNNY," Doug stated in a constipated fashion and slammed the door closed again which only fueled their amusement. 

"What did you _think_ we were doing, Dougie?" Pacey chuckled after him and then helped Joey up to give her a well-deserved high-five. 

"The look on his face was priceless! I thought he was going to erupt!" she blurted in a laugh. The last time someone pulled a good practical joke someone played on her was a year ago - Dawson on Friday The 13th. And she thought things were complicated _then_. 

"That ruled so much more than insinuating he was gay! I've officially decided to branch out of that." He was self-satisfied, but distracted. Jesus, she could be an actress. Those heavenly moans and murmurs of hers were beyond arousing. Where had she learned to do that? Pacey decided it was best to stop thinking about ways he wanted to make Joey scream his name for real and raised a finger to signify he'd be right back. He walked out to confront Doug, who was slamming kitchen cabinets left and right. Gee, hello, hostile. 

Joey followed Pacey out but decided to stay back for a while to see if she could eavesdrop a few choice words. She leaned against the hallway opening, looking in every so often after making sure she wasn't conspicuous. 

"What the hell was that? Are you trying to give me a coronary or something?" Doug snapped and added food to his growing pile. 

"Quit trippin' up, we were just messing around." 

"Immaturity must be a perpetual theme for you." 

"Who _cares_ if I was doing what you thought I was doing anyway," he waved a hand dismissively and sat down. 

"I care. You're only 16-years-old, Pacey. You don't know what you want out of life, let alone a girl. You're not even fully developed, mentally _or_ physically. I'm just glad it was a sick hoax, per usual," he went on as Pacey glared at the back of his head hoping if he did it long enough, he'd burn a whole straight through it. He wondered how Doug'd react if he knew Pacey probably had more sexual experience than he did. "Plus, I'm sure Joey's a nice girl, but it doesn't reflect well on dad to have you cavorting with her when we know all about her family history. I mean, it's one thing to help them out with that bed-and-breakfast, but-" 

That set him off. "You are such a bastard!" Pacey spat as he stood up and got in Doug's face. "Dad wouldn't give a rat's ass! Unlike you, he doesn't punish the innocent and he believes in second chances. And this isn't some kind of relief rescue mission, she's my fucking _friend_. In case you're unfamiliar with the term 'friend'-" 

Joey had heard enough. She retreated back to Pacey's room and shut the door without a sound. She sat down, dazed, fighting the urge to hit something or to just crawl underneath the bed and die. 

A look of realization hit Doug. "You like her, don't you," he stated slowly with a smug smirk. 

"Keep it down, will you? I do not- Well, she's my friend, yes, but I don't- no, I don't _like_ her," he whispered loudly as if it was the most preposterous notion he'd ever heard. A year ago, it would've been. 

Doug sighed. "Don't lie, Pacey, you're not as good at it as you think you are." He picked up a couple more things and dropped them into a brown paper sack. "I'm leaving. Don't do anything stupid." 

"In other words, don't do anything you would do?" he said loudly as Doug exited through the door to the garage. "Asshole." He slammed the door and shuffled back inside to his room where he left Joey, only to find her eyes brimming with potential tears. God, she'd heard that? And how much did she hear? 

"I should go," she said firmly, which indicated she'd only heard the beginning of the conversation. If she'd heard the rest, she'd want to talk it to death until no one was left standing. 

"No, you shouldn't. I'm sorry about what you heard in there. No one ever gives a second thought about what Doug thinks and my dad really likes you. He does." _It's_ me _he hates_, is how Pacey wanted to finish that sentence. He sat beside her causing the bed to shift. 

Joey sat there pensive, poking her finger at the corner of her eye to catch a drop. "It's fine, I've grown accustomed to it," she said too evenly to be believable. 

Her mind drifted back to the very first time she overheard someone talking about her - that traitor, Melissa Barry. She stood up to her eventually, of course, in that very special Joey fashion, but only after she cried her little eyes out in a bathroom stall. It was a well-crafted technique she relied upon often, until she decided one day it'd be better to keep it all inside in an emotional ball instead of crying. Oh, how Joey loathed crying. She hadn't encountered open gossip about their family in a while though because when the Icehouse burned to the ground, everyone in town assumed it was just a greasy kitchen fire that got out of control. And she never intended on letting any of it out... and certainly not in front of Pacey. 

"No, Doug poisoned our perfect day and I am the anti-uh... whatever reverses poison." There was sweat on his brow and he flinched every so often. He looked pale again... like she had this morning. "Ya can't leave. We are so not done here." 

She laughed, which incurred the potential tear to turn kinetic. "Oh yeah, how do you mean? I think we've already OD'd on the boisterous fun today." The thought occurred to her that she needed to do something. All those times he'd done things for her that she'd let pass without thanks were just far too prevalent. She didn't want to be the burden he kept picking up after. That's not the way they worked. Joey stood up to walk to the kitchen and Pacey followed close behind. 

"Then we'll go with sit-on-our-ass fun to cap the night. Truth or dare?" 

"No." She said emphatically and shook her head. 

"Truth. Okay. Um... aha, got it. What were you thinking about when... you had to decide whether or not to go to France last year?" 

Joey looked down, very surprised. That question seemed innocuous enough. It wasn't one of the earth-shattering, life-altering truth questions she'd come to expect from him. "I was thinking..." she started, "I don't know what I was thinking then... but I always think 'What would've happened if I'd gone?' I mean, I never would've gotten into that mess with Dawson or my father, Capeside would've possibly gotten a chance to forget my family's past... But I guess I knew something horrible was bound to happen somehow. The story of my life." She felt around a drawer for a clean washcloth and ran it under a stream of cool water. "But that's the beauty of being a pessimist. You can't ever get disappointed because you saw it coming from a mile away." 

Pacey looked back at her curiously. "Yeah, but you can still get hurt." He made sure he wasn't invading her personal space when he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off anyway. 

"I am so sick of this! I'm tired of leaning on everyone for support. I feel like this weakling. It seems like that's all I've been doing lately. And don't you ever get tired of everyone using you as a stepladder to get over themselves? Stop heroing around, Pacey . It's not you." She knew she was taking her anger at herself out on him, but he damn well deserved some of it. Sure, she'd changed, but she never expected _him_ to also. If there was something she could count on, it was that if she fell, Dawson would be there to help her up and Pacey would be there to point and laugh. The two didn't _overlap_. None of her constants were constant anymore... Where was the repulsive guy she couldn't bear the sight of for 10 years? Did she blink when he turned into SuperPacey, or worse yet, one of the good ones? 

"Hey, calm down. What do you mean? Of course, it's me. Oh, that's right. How _unfathomable_ that I could do things right for once." 

"You know that's not what I meant." 

What a hypocrite, he thought. Joey called him today and he knew what it meant. It was just circumstance that she might have _maybe_ enjoyed herself today, but nothing had changed. He was still everyone's plucky pal Pacey and Joey just needed a ride. "Everyone needs the hero. Everyone wants the hero, so who am I to deny them of him? Don't pretend that all I was was your getaway vehicle today." 

Joey was taken aback by that accusation. It started out like that but... it really... she didn't know what to think anymore. She closed her eyes which Pacey took as her acknowledgment that he was right. "Sit." 

Pacey did as he was told and she indicated he lean his back on the couch. She pushed him back further so he had to scoot forward to get comfortable. He pulled his head up and she pushed it back down, gently. 

"You're burning up," Joey said softly as she pushed some hair out of the way and held up the cool cloth to his forehead. 

"Yeah, it seems," he gulped. 

"Truth or dare?" 

He'd pick neither if that was an option. The thought never occurred to him that eventually it would be his turn, only hoping now that she'd be as merciful with her chance at interrogation. "Truth." 

"Don't you get tired of being the perpetually strong one?" 

"Meaning?" 

"I _mean_, first you're this hormonally imbalanced lunatic of a 15-year-old, and you go and do this 180º morphing into a frightening do-no-wrong, knight in gleaming armor and now... you're in limbo, a hybrid. I guess I just envy you being able to get out of being typecast," she trailed off. 

"Hey, I'll take Prince Charming over loser any day." She nodded. Joey wasn't crazy about when he went around saving everyone and just when she thought he'd grown out of it, become his old self again, he reached out to her. Her main fear was that he wasn't being honest with her anymore and that she was just another name on his list of people to rescue. "But what about you? You're not typecasted by anyone I know of." 

"Be honest, Pacey," Joey said bluntly. "Look me in the face and tell me that when you think of me, you don't automatically think 'prude,' 'virgin,' 'naive'..." 

"You are not naive. Anyone that could explain leather straps to Dawson Leery is anything but." 

"But," she laughed, "compared to me, every other girl is like some sophisticate. It's true. All of my past relationships have crashed, burned and still spontaneously combust every now and then. Even Andie retorted that guys weren't my expertise when I tried to shy her away from Sideshow Rob." 

"No kidding?" 

"Which brings up another thing... I tried to be a good friend, I really did... and that's why I kept this from you..." she took a deep breath, "The Rob assault was a lie - a cheap device to get your sympathy and eventually you back." She flinched and scrunched up her nose, fearing a reaction. 

"I know." 

"You know?" 

"Yeah, I know... she's not as talented an actress as she thinks she is," he smiled slightly. 

Joey smiled, relieved. 

Pacey sat contemplating for a minute and Joey's smile faded to concern. Reminiscing about his relationship with Andie wasn't something he'd done for a long time - he'd been too preoccupied plotting how to hide what new attraction he'd developed to Joey. His first time with Andie had been amazing, simply because he was so smitten with her. 

Now, in a strange place between acceptance and bitterness, he began thinking out loud. No harm done anyway, because it was Joey he was thinking out loud to. "God, I really wish I'd waited to... you know with Andie. We barely knew each other at the time and I wanted to wait, I really did... Then things started spinning out of control, she went to Mayfield... our relationship just couldn't sustain it when she did what she did," he said referring to the Marc incident, "and I think she made it glaringly obvious that we didn't know each other as well as we thought." 

"Am I hearing correctly? You wanted to wait?" 

"In general too," Pacey sighed. "I just wish I'd waited for someone special. Yeah, Tamara Jacobs was special, and at the time, it was like, I lost it in this fantasy. Up until then, sex had pretty much been a do-it-yourself. I may appear like your normal teenage boy, but really, as much as I hate to admit it, I have the same views on sex and love as you and Dawson." She raised an eyebrow. "Ok, so not the _same_ views." 

"It's sweet," she admitted. "I had no idea you had such a romantic viewpoint on sex." He shrugged. "Y'know, some days, I just get so restless..." Joey couldn't believe the words were coming out of her mouth but she never felt she had to hold anything back with him and talking about sex with him just seemed like the most natural thing in the world. They'd done it for years. 

Pacey just nodded in comprehension with a start of a smile on his face that faded as quick as it appeared. "Promise me you won't dive in." 

"What?" she asked putting down the cloth and settling in. She tucked a wispy strand of dark hair behind her earlobe. 

"Dive in. With sex. Don't." It killed him that she might make his mistake. Joey deserved the perfect time, place, person. She deserved perfection. 

"And why not?" 

Pacey wasn't much for expressing emotion, ever, and he feared if he said anything at this point, his genuine feelings would come off as ... disingenuous - that was something Joey Potter didn't tolerate. But the words came tumbling out nonetheless. "Because Joey... I don't know what it is about you, but you've managed to encounter guys that want to touch your _soul_ more than anything else and I don't know how long your streak's going to last." 

In retrospect, Joey realized how incredibly lucky she was to have the good guys in her life that she did. She just never thought she'd be adding Pacey to that list, and now, he was creeping up to the top of it. After a pregnant pause, she finally gathered enough courage to tell him what she was thinking. She felt she owed him that. "Thanks, Pace," she gave him her patented half-smile in return for his trademark sincerity. 

"For what?" 

"For... continuing my streak." It sounded cheesy and cliché, but she meant it and it's never cliché when you mean it. He smiled uncomfortably as he turned down the comforter over them and underneath their arms. 

"Do you uh, do you think we could call it a night? All this unadulterated honesty... I'm spent." Unadulterated honesty? He felt like he could just die right there because he couldn't say the things he longed to for an infinite number of seen and unseen reasons. He was _real_ honest. 

"Yeah. Night, Pacey." She pulled the sweatshirt over her head and lay on the flat, hard floor next to him. 

"Night, Joey," he sighed. 

It was nothing like those platonic sleepovers with Dawson. Joey's leg grazed his by sheer accident and she tensed up, they both did. 

Shutting his eyes didn't make the thoughts he was having about Joey's closeness any less... thoughtful. In fact, it made them more severe. 

"Get your ass off of my back." 

"Well get your back off of my ass." 

They twisted and turned until they were distanced just enough to feel the feverish warmth radiating from one another's body. Pacey flipped over on his back and stared at the stucco on the ceiling because he just couldn't bear watching her sleep again. This time it'd be different having her right beside him. The whole damn day never should've happened, he was convinced. It was a blight on destiny or maybe destiny's billboard saying, 'Haha, she'll never love you,' which he already knew of course. He was going to forever hold his peace. It was the right thing to do. Today, he was practically begging for rules, for a limitation to what he could and couldn't do. Pacey had the chance and he didn't take it and kiss her. It was the right thing to do. If he kissed her, if he didn't kiss her, he'd regret it either way. He pulled his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to smother the thoughts that always turned back to her. 

Joey closed her eyes as best she could, but they flew open every time new thoughts invaded her mind. All these years she had thought of Pacey like this nagging, overprotective older brother-type. Why had it taken her this long to realize he was so much more than that? She'd missed her opportunity... or 'opportunities,' more like it. Plural. She put her hands to her temples in frustration and disbelief. Blind. Oblivious. The very things she'd chided Dawson for all his life, she had become. Something inside her began to hurt. Her eyes began to prickle with tears of joy, pain... tears of everything, and she didn't cry easy. Pacey wasn't kidding when he said it was a perfect day. It really was. If it hadn't been for today, her adolescence would've just continued to die a bloody, horrible death, swimming in a pool of self-pity, and she probably never would've discovered how amazing a guy Pacey turned out to be when no one was looking. To him, today was just an ordinary day that happened to have a little bit of her in it. She knew he'd maybe crushed a little on her during their marine bio outing last year, but she never thought anything of it. Now she ached for it when the days that he felt anything more than friendship for her were miles away. 

"Joey? You awake, Potter?" As analytical as she was, it was ironic that she usually fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

Pacey's voice floated over her as gentle as a breeze. Her mouth opened to answer, but she decided against it. She didn't know what to say now that their fun and games were over. 

"I uh, I'm just gonna come out and say this. Since you're asleep and all, you won't roll your eyes or laugh in my face," he started. Joey smiled and rolled her eyes just as he predicted, but then stared ahead feeling solemn again. She wasn't sure what he was about to say nor what she wanted to hear from him, so she wasn't prepared for anything. "I know I'm taking the coward's way out, telling you right now... But today, I just kept wondering... Tomorrow. Will it be the same 'I snip, you comeback/You snip, I come back' routine? Not that I don't love it. I do... But how can I possibly handle going back to the way we were after today? I can't even handle it now. I think that's the point. I can't handle it. 

"I don't think I'll be able to be with you anymore." A lump rose up in his throat, and hers too. "Friends or otherwise. You and I both know I'm not a glowing asset to your life anyway. I mean, what chaos have I brought to your life just these past months? I unwittingly pushed Dawson into that whole Eve debacle causing Dawson to insist that I serve as your third and expendable shoulder. From there, we've skipped school, taken a ride on my horribly dilapidated excuse for a boat and I've broken your heater, twice," he laughed weakly and sat upright against the furniture. "You never needed me, and I knew that going in. You've always been able to take care of yourself. I know that. 

"And so," he exhaled, "here's my new plan. I'm going to take you back home tomorrow and then I'm going to avoid you until you loathe me. You'll ask me what's wrong. I'll say 'nothing.' You won't believe me. I'll act like an asshole and you'll treat me as such. It's really brilliant, isn't it?... I know you won't like it," Pacey said broken, trying to keep his breathing silent. "I don't like it. But I don't like lying to you either, and I never in a lifetime expected things to get this far... That we'd come so close to-" he stopped, his voice softening, "that we'd come so close." 

She wanted to tell him there was no way in hell she'd let him do that to her, and say that was the last thing she wanted. Joey soaked her pillowcase clean through, opening her mouth again for words she couldn't force out so she just tasted the tears on her lips. 

"And even in the miraculous yet apocalyptic event that you did love me back someday, what could we do? I'm the tool, coveting my best friend's ex-soulmate in the first place..." He breathed in deep. "God help me, I'm so in love with you, Jo, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it." 

Pacey sighed in sheer frustration and his heart beat so hard, he could feel it pulsating in his throat. Joey heard him roll over and punch the pillow, and then all was silent. 

Pacey's head was swimming as he drifted closer towards sleep. He couldn't believe he'd said those things to her, even if she wasn't conscious. Everything sounded different out loud. In his head, it was perfection. He'd manipulated Joey's fantasy reaction so many times in his mind. Though every scenario where he proclaimed himself was different, her words were always the same: "I love you too, Pacey." He mulled each possible outcome over in his head. Frequently, he'd have those dreams where you know you're dreaming because something was just off. Very vivid, but too good to be reality. Pacey's last waking thought was that pretty much every moment he spent with Joey was like that. 

It was an ungodly 6:40 AM, when he woke up the next morning. He wanted to keep his eyes shut, afraid to open them because he knew if he did, he'd see that the weight and the warmth he felt on his chest wasn't really Joey's hand, and he couldn't really feel her breath on his face - that it was all just another manifestation. 

Ever the glutton for punishment, Pacey opened them. 

He squinted with one sleepy eye and looked up at the ceiling, then at the far side of the room, letting his yes adjust to the brightness of the cloudy grey sky that filtered through the blinds. The blanket they'd used to cover themselves had been kicked off during the night and lay rumpled at his feet. Finally, he tilted his chin down. Joey stirred. The loose ponytail she'd worn to bed had come undone and her long strands of hair spread out like a fan on his flimsy t-shirt. She lay half on her side, half on her stomach and her left hand that was resting gently on his chest slid down to his right side. Pacey froze. Gulping, he carefully freed his own arm out from underneath a neighboring pillow and slid his hand around her waist gently, wanting to hold on to this and to hold on to her a little longer. Forever, even. He closed his eyes again, savoring and capturing the sensation in his mind before letting himself fall asleep again. 

Opening his eyes a second time a few hours later was a much different experience. Pacey twisted to find Joey not beside him, but in the kitchen rustling noisily through the half-empty cereal boxes. It was time for his plan. Time to be a jerk. But he was never that great an actor and he was even worse at being an jerk. 

Joey watched him with amusement as he stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later. "About time. I was about to prepare a delightful pitcher of cold water with your name on it," she smirked and folded her arms across her chest. "I take it you're still not a morning person?" 

He rubbed the back of his neck, which, had he not been delusional, he would have noticed was slept on in an awkward position. "Never have been, never will be. And, who gets up this early anyway? It's friggin' Saturday." He poured himself a cup of black coffee into an equally black mug with two beady yellow cat eyes on it. His slight stubble rubbed against the glass uncomfortably. "Is there any particular reason why you're so excruciatingly chipper this morning?" he inquired and exhaled before slipping his lips around the rim of the cup for a second sip. 

"What can I say, I'm a chipper person," Joey rolled her eyes and promptly followed it with a stifled yawn. He noticed. Maybe she wasn't as awake as she was letting on. Pacey discreetly glanced at the wall clock which read 8:02 and then eyed her suspiciously as she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch with her own coffee in hand. She settled in comfortably for a nice half hour of the ever-intellectual 'Saved By The Bell: The New Class.' 

"Not gonna get dressed up there, Jo?" Pacey followed her in and stared down at her. 

"Nope, not planning on it," she answered without looking at him. 

He sighed, defeated that he'd have to prolong the inevitable and sat down beside her. He guessed he could carry out his painful scheme and take her home a little later. Sure it'd make it harder, but... he forgot what was supposed to be on the other side of that but. "You're telling me you woke up simply to watch these 28-year-old teenagers spout lessons of sugarcoated morality and bad fashion?" 

Joey raised a knee and rested her cheek on it. "That would be a correct statement." 

"Talk about role reversal... I'm going to take a shower." 

"Great for you. That time of the year, I smell," she looked at him pointedly. Considering the time of day, not to mention the indecipherable look she was giving him, it was no wonder his wit was truly unsharpened. No snippy comeback could work its way into his mind with the confusion taking up all that space. 

"I'll be out in a couple minutes." 

"And I'll be holding my breath until your return." 

Pacey walked to the bathroom unceremoniously and shut the door behind him. He stripped out of his boxers and stared at the blurred reflection of his face in the mirror. He was groggy and expressionless, an unmoving smirk upon his lips. Not a trace of feeling for Joey evident, except for that intense misery hidden behind the glassy blue-grey of his eyes. It had always been there. And she'd see it, if he'd let her - or if she'd cared to see it. 

The pads of his feet touched base with the rubber non-slip flower stickers on the bottom of the tub as he climbed in and flicked the taps. He let the hot water wash over him, closing his eyes. How perfect, he thought, if he could just float away with it. What was he doing? What had he done? 

The television shut off. Joey had aimed the remote at it and shot. It was clouding her mind. What had happened to her plan of just coming out and telling him how she felt? Of course, she couldn't tell him what she thought when she didn't know herself. She was scared. And confused. And what does Joey Potter do when she's scared and confused? That's right. Act like a big, big bitch. If Pacey was paying attention to what she was saying instead of focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, he'd have called her on it. Hearing the sound of two doors slamming, no doubt one being the bathroom's and one being his, she stood up. Her feet were moving, but she had no idea what she planned on saying to him. She didn't know about the ramifications with Dawson or if this would ruin everything. All she knew was she couldn't let him take her home without hashing it out or it would all be over. No more of Pacey's joking demands for a hug. No more parental favors or rides in the Wittermobile. No more snow angels or spaghetti dinners or games of truth or dare. 

No more moments and no more chances. 

Pacey heard a startling knock on the other side of his heavy bedroom door and jumped. "Can I come in?" Joey asked. 

"I'm uh, just a tad naked here." He pushed the door completely shut in panic and she knocked again with an open hand. 

"Come on, Pacey, put something on and let me in. Open up." 

The brass doorknob began to shake and he grabbed the towel quickly, wrapping it around his waist and covering his lower half just in time. She walked in and stood there smirking at his deer-vs.-headlights pose. "_God_, you're rude" he remarked as he nervously ran his fingers through his dark and dripping hair. His face smiled involuntarily. "What's urgent enough that it requires one Pacey, sans clothes?" 

"I just..." she looked down at the droplets creeping down the skin of his arms, stomach and back, mesmerized as they landed in a puddle on the hunter green towel around him. "I'm sorry, I uh, I'll just let you get changed. It can wait." Joey pivoted and headed from where she came, but he stopped her with his voice. 

"No, really, Jo, what is it?" he asked and backed into the bed. His fading smile directly coincided with the concerned down turning of his eyebrows. 

"I just wanted to ... to ask you... where the hair dryer is?" She said it as if her question surprised herself. "I'm think I'm gonna take a shower myself." 

He looked at her strangely, raising his eyebrows. "It's in the top drawer on the right," Pacey drawled patronizingly. 

"Thanks," Joey blurted and walked backwards, and in the process of closing the door, he called after her. 

"It's a good thing," he added in his normal voice. "Honestly, you were getting kind of rank, but I didn't want to say anything." He could hear her distinct laugh resonating in the hall. Bewildered and smiling, Pacey pulled on a pair of corduroys and shook his head. 

She shut the bathroom door behind her and some loose blue tiles rattled in place, partly from the impact and partly from her laughter. It was just like Pacey, always making it hard for her... Bad choice of words. Looking herself in the eye, she noticed the flush in her cheeks was healthy again. She was still sniffling, but at least she didn't regurgitate last night's dinner, especially after the close call with Pacey. She'd almost let it slip. Let what slip? Wasn't that what she _didn't_ want? She pushed it out of her mind, temporarily and examined her face further. Her eyes though tired and swollen from crying and lack of sleep weren't bloodshot anymore. She'd woken up so early to have time to think, to plan, to enforce. Now, with an hour or so passed since she'd gotten up, it felt as if she'd done none of those things. 

Joey pulled off the sweatshirt and t-shirt simultaneously and then her pants and underwear. Scorching hot was just how she preferred her showers. The complications flooded her mind again. She didn't know where she and Pacey were going, but they weren't going back. Suddenly, anger brewed in her that THIS was his big bone-headed answer. Giving up, copping out, bailing on everything they'd built so strenuously. Could he really do that? Could he really just up and leave her? She couldn't. Well fine. If that was the case, if their friendship meant so little to him that he'd make the decision to throw it away because one day he got the silly idea that he loved her, then fine. Maybe she didn't want to stop him anymore. 

Sizzling and popping, the oil around the eggs scrambled, causing the sunny mass of goo to do a flabby jig. It was the only food Pacey was convinced he could cook decently, and he figured he might as well have a last meal of some sorts with Joey. 

She dragged her feet along the carpet and appeared from behind the corner with a small yellow towel in her hair. "Pacey, _where_ is my bra?" she demanded. 

"You think I took it?" he asked incredulous, hunched over breakfast. "Vying for Miss Windjammer is as close as I come to transvestite territory - literally and figuratively." He turned, expecting to see her in jeans and his sweatshirt, not her hair in ropes and her body tightly wrapped in a towel. The pan wobbled in his hand as he became more and more unnerved. He took in two quality deep breaths, knowing if he let her affect him the way she did, he'd never go through with 'it.' The plan. The plan he was fast forgetting, looking at her all wet like that. He turned his attention back to the frying pan. 

"Ugh!" Clutching the top of the towel with one hand, she stormed over to the couch and overturned two couch cushions violently before finding it underneath her pillow on the floor. "...Found it," she flipped it into the air with her fore and middle finger, a little embarrassed. Not embarrassed enough to be sorry, but embarrassed. 

"Alright, just put that bad boy on and we can eat," Pacey said guilelessly and laid two empty and mostly clean plates on the table. His tone was so flippant, she was accosted with doubt that what she remembered about last night was true. It seemed like the whole atmosphere was playing mind games with her and she was losing horribly. How complicated could things conceivably get between two people? He gave her a fragile smile as she turned back to the bathroom to get dressed and she gave him a tight-lipped smile back. Very complicated indeed. 

After a few minutes, Pacey flicked the closed door with the tips of his thick fingers. He immediately regretted it and cursed lightly when the sharp pain underneath his fingernails began to sting. Pacey didn't know what made him do stupid things like that, especially if he knew it was going to hurt... Just needed to get her attention, he guessed. "Hey, breakfast is rapidly cooling off!" 

"Ok, I'm coming!" Joey replied from the other side. Her hair pulled back in a neat half ponytail, she smoothed it out one last time. She struggled with her jeans which clung to her damp legs and zipped up the zipper, slipping through the narrow crack in the door. 

"See? You're not the only Martha Stewart around here. I know my way around a skillet," Pacey winked as she sat herself down to be served. On the stained tablecloth stood two tall glasses, one with homestyle orange juice and one overflowing with whole milk. Beaming proudly at his culinary efforts, Pacey brought over the steaming skillet, which held two delightfully runny over-easy eggs and a single browned sausage and then sat down. Joey stifled a laugh about the dinky breakfast of which they were about to partake for the sake of his ego. 

"Yeah, because skillets are way complicated. But I have to say I'm impressed. By 'preparing breakfast,' I figured you were talking Quaker oatmeal." Joey stuck a knife in the sausage, dividing it into two and plopped one tiny half on his plate. She lifted one orange juice glass, so Pacey grabbed the other. 

"Sure, you can have my juice, smartass," he chuckled and clinked his drink with hers. She put down the glass pursed her lips, shaking her fork in his face threateningly. Her wide smile opposed it of course. 

"Nooo, not the claw!" Joey lowered her skewer weapon in a fit of giggles and tried to swallow without choking on the pulp. 

"Orange juice trickling out the nose is such a good look for you, Joey." Pacey laughed himself. 

"As is that gelatinous milk mustache on you. I mean, after last night, I thought you'd given up the whole facial hair thing," she pointed out in between gasps of air. 

"Hey don't dis milk, it does a body good." He wiped his mouth and set the glass by his useless spoon, laughter subsiding. His eggs were doused in ketchup now and Joey grimaced. 

"That's so gross. You eat them just like my dad." It reminded her of the times when her father passed the ketchup to Pacey at their breakfast table while Dawson ate his eggs plain and Joey had her mother's famous sizzling bacon instead. One of those days, Pacey and Dawson became blood brothers. Capri Suns in tow, they'd gone over to the fort and though she was their 'witness,' she wasn't allowed to participate in this particular activity. After all, it was sacred and Joey was still a girl. It was one of the points in her childhood when she felt like the third wheel, or fifth wheel rather. 

"I know it," he said scooping a heap of the red and yellow lump into his mouth and chomping it down cartoonishly. "They're manly eggs. Arrrrrggh." He cursed as he bit his tongue in his lame-ass Popeye impression and she laughed a 'serves you right' laugh. 

After they were finished, he put away the dishes and trailed her upstairs. Granny Witter's yellow dress draped over her left arm, Joey leaned on the door frame as Pacey put the charcoal suit from the night before back into the closet from which it came. Pacey took one last look and scooted some hangers over before sliding it shut and looking in the mirror at his current attire. A V-necked wool green sweater and a pair of corduroys - he wanted to look nice today. He was no debonair business man, but it was a start. 

"Oh, hey, I forgot about that. Here, I can take it," he held out his hand for the dress, but she shook her head. 

"No, that's ok, it goes here." She took a step towards the gigantic chest at the foot of the bed, where she'd made her previous discovery. Propped open, the trunk revealed aged trinkets and dusty treasures she hadn't noticed yesterday. The baubles and costume jewelry looped and snaked around everything. Slowly, she folded the dress gently into thirds and set it inside. She looked solemn when she did it, as if she was burying it. 

Pacey watched Joey lay it in place and stopped himself from commenting on it, and how beautiful she looked in it. Because you don't tell a friend she's beautiful. You just don't. 

"Yesterday was fun, huh?" she said without warning. 

"Uh, yeah, it- Yeah," he replied weakly, looking at her, and then the bed. He turned and walked through the door. 

She watched him go and began to follow him out. In doing that, she unintentionally dropped the pink flower she'd forgotten she was clutching in her right hand onto the hardwood floor. It was the flower she'd worn in her hair the night before. She crouched with her breasts against her knees to pick it up again. Joey stood up again, dropped it into the trunk, stared at it and then brought the lid down. 

Downstairs, Pacey sat on the couch motionless. He considered throwing back a beer to calm his nerves because he didn't smoke. He'd gotten the rotten habit from his dad, who wasn't quite an alcoholic, but certainly seemed fast on his way there. A "social drinker" he was. Well, that and an ass. But deep down, he knew he could never hate him. Pacey was pretty lucky he'd never raised a hand to anyone. Mr. Witter usually just sat with a Bud in front of the television, complaining about Mrs. Witter's cooking. Pacey remembered he was driving later so he scratched that idea and simply let his nervousness fester. 

The sound of Joey's feet making their way down the stairs and Pookie nipping at her heels once again was enough to give him purpose to get up. Surprised at the sight of she and the dog co-existing, Pacey sat beside her on the step. The dog snuggled contentedly between them, his head on Joey's out turned knee. It tickled. She giggled. 

"Pook, as much as you love Joey's legs, we gotta go," Pacey spoke to the dog as if he was 4-years-old and still believed there was a chance he might talk back. 

Joey nodded slightly and got up carefully as not to disturb the dog's rest, taking the hint that he thought it was time she left. Pookie looked disappointed. Pacey looked up at her as she stood and she looked down at him. Pacey called after her with more excuses, but she ignored him. Apparently, Doug was coming back and Pacey didn't want her to have to put up with any more of his disdain. Yeah, right. Whatever. He didn't happen to mention they were going to her house directly, but she assumed so. 

What was taking her so long? Pacing up and down the patchy cement driveway, he shuddered, his arms aching from the cold and chockful of goosebumps. His coat provided very little warmth. Mrs. Witter's azaleas were struggling. The poor little suckers were teased so mercilessly by Capeside's uneven weather that right when they'd grown accustomed to the unseasonable spring, they were hit below the belt with pure ice. Pacey jostled them with the tips of his sneakers, and their colorful little heads peeked up at him as if to say thank you. 

He was pacing because he needed some quality thinking time, away from Joey and the 'don't think, Pacey. Just do' vibes she emitted. It was important to keep everything in perspective, he thought as he made his way back into the garage, stubbing his toe on a rake. It wasn't so earth-shattering, what he was about to do. No biggie. Because if it was meant to be, if God was really that loving, then this wouldn't be the case anyway. He'd never have to let her go. Right? 

Both feet on the porch, Joey closed the door behind her as Pacey finally backed the jeep out. There was no way she could get into the passenger's side with the clutter around the car so he pulled out of the garage and intended to meet her on the paved path in front of the house. Her face felt tight as the wind circled it, rustling her hair. The overpowering gust found its way underneath her coat and shot it open like a parachute before gently sinking back into place. She turned around to see the neighborhood still blanketed in lazy, incandescent stillness. Diminutive snowflakes settled comfortably in the warmth of her neckline as she trudged her way to the car through the falling snow. 

They hopped in and she tapped her feet against the side of the car to rid the soles of her shoes from the pesky slush. Pacey turned the ignition and the jeep's engine wheezed. Before they knew it, they were off, but to where exactly she didn't know. 

Zooming past the library and the grade school, their eyes followed four or five kids swinging on the tire swing. One of them looked like it might have been Mrs. Jensen's kid. Mrs. Jensen was a single mom that lived two houses down from Pacey's and her kid was always begging Pacey for piggy back rides. But they were going too fast and couldn't tell if it was him. 

As soon as they reached the woods, they knew they were midway between their houses. The woods were so sad looking, broken and torn. Ice-cloaked branches sat strewn about and the trees that were still standing were dancing in the wind to the music. Aftermath. Aside from the slight capping of snow, the colorlessness of their surroundings was a bit overwhelming. 

"What is up with this weather?" Pacey asked rhetorically, out loud and to no one in particular. He did it often, and Joey knew not to answer. He went on. "Y'know, I can't wait till all these trees go green again. I mean, it's this mass of brown everywhere I look. Depressing." He couldn't believe this. Here he was, having what was very possibly his final civil conversation with Joey, ever, and he was babbling about trees. 

Suddenly, Pacey felt like the echoing melody was closing in on his brain. He blinked tightly but swiftly. "You mind if I turn this down? Yeah? Okay." His fingers reached for the dial and his face took a serious turn. The music served as background now and could only be heard in intermittent murmurs and faint tambourine. She looked on, paranoid, anticipating his next move and as soon as his mouth curved into an oval she intercepted. 

"Crimson and Clover," she said abruptly looking at his moving hand and referring to the tune. "What an utterly enigmatic song. I mean, it's revered as some kind of romantic love ballad, but really, what is it about? Nobody knows." 

Well, she needed to say something! Pacey turned to her, caught by surprise at her rant considering she hadn't said much since they'd left. She could tell he'd lost his train of thought. "Well, I always thought it was about a guy wanting to get in a girl's pants." 

"Oh that's deep." 

"But think about it. Okay, he hardly knows her, but he's ready to love her and he wants to show her crimson and clover, over and over and over," he laughed and lowered his head to look at her suggestively. What else could it be about? She laughed and leaned back touching the top of her head with the headrest. 

"That's my point! Seriously, what is crimson and clover?" 

"I bet it's something kinky. I'm telling you, the song is about sex." 

"You're such a toad. It doesn't have to be about sex. It can't be just a meaningless metaphor. There has to be a reason why it's so used in TV and movies where the happy couple either finally comes together in a slow dance or when they say their final goodbyes. I mean, it's effective in making a moment special. Bittersweet. There has to be more meaning to it than some sort of badly masked sexual reference." 

"Whatever you say. Color me cynical and shallow but it's just a song. It was the sixties, the guy was probably stoned off his ass when he wrote it." 

"Maybe," she sniffed. Amusing. It was considerably harder to carry analytical conversation with a person as equally acrid as yourself. The car was taking an awfully long time to heat up and the chill multiplied her edginess until she visibly shivered. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body and crushed her lips together to warm them and to hide her gritting teeth. 

"You need my coat?" he asked in a voice so soft, her whole body warmed at the sound of it. 

"Nah, I'm good." 

A couple of minutes passed pleasantly but anxiously. 

"Damnit." Pacey slowed the car down and brought it to a stop on the shoulder of the road, then banged his head once on his hand which was on the wheel. 

"What is it?" 

"I think I left the moronic garage door open." 

"You want to go back?" she asked, hoping the hope in her voice didn't come across. 

He wondered how many seconds, minutes, hours of his life he'd wasted on things like backtracking to check if he'd closed the garage door. Then he realized that if he lived his life thinking about things like that, hell, he'd be his father, so he ignored the thought entirely. He fired the car back up and forged ahead. "It's fine." 

In the distance, a low beam headlight gleamed from a passing car. Their car made a left at the unmarked intersection, straight into the residential area of the historical district. Stalling, as in taking the long way home, was the best Pacey could do. Maybe he didn't have to do this. He'd handled simply being friends once, twice, three times a heart laceration. He could do it again. The speedometer told him to slow down before Joey could, so she remained silent again. 

They crossed a bridge over the largest part of the creek and he asked, "Aren't you supposed to hold your breath when you cross bridges?" 

"I think that's for cemeteries. You make wishes on bridges." 

So they did. Out of nowhere, he asked another question. It was equally absurd, but more curious. "You feel like ice cream?" 

"...Sure," she said though it was way below freezing. 

A couple of buildings appeared and as they passed by, their numbers increased. They were officially smack dab in the middle of the city. Grey skies and grey snow made everything look drab. Pacey parked in front of the deserted old ice cream shoppe with the name of it painted on the window and they stepped into the parlor. It was warm beyond words inside so they immediately unbuttoned their coats and unwrapped their scarves. The old lady behind the counter looked pretty surprised to see any customers at all, regardless of what season it was. 

"What can I get for you two kids?" the old lady chirped. He smiled and nodded politely, stepping aside. 

"Two cups of mint chocolate chip, please," Joey answered sweetly and walked up to the register. She knew what flavor to get. With all those summers sitting on the docks with their feet just shy of the water watching the sailboats drift past them eating dripping cones of it, she knew just what to get. 

He let her order for the both of them and sat down in a cold, wrought-iron seat. There was a guy 30-some-years-old eating a big dripping cone in the corner. This place must've been his haunt or something, because Pacey couldn't conceive of another reason why any other person would be as crazy as Joey and him to have ice cream in the dead of winter. Joey sat down in her seat and slid over his cup. Pacey flinched as he took the first spoonful, but then his mouth began to grow accustomed to the chill. "You realize we're freaks, don't you?" 

"This is startling new information?" she laughed and dove into hers. He chuckled and took another scoop that singed his top teeth with icy sweetness. 

The bells on the door clanked against the glass and all 4 people looked up to see the new patron, a pretty girl with glasses not much older than 17. The old lady beamed. It was the most business she'd had in ages. The weird guy in the corner went back to his Saturday paper and sundae. Joey was a little wigged out that there were this many weirdos in Capeside, even if she was one of them. This girl ordered a frozen yogurt, took a seat two tables away from them and Pacey and Joey beamed internally. It was silly to think that their presence was what was casting a temporary happy spell on the place, but they thought it anyway. Until Joey turned unhappy, that was. 

Pacey looked up at her, trying to tear himself away from her big brown eyes. Not Joey's but the girl's. The weird girl. That's what it seemed like to Joey at least. Ironic how he loved her just the night before and now he couldn't stop looking at that weird, four-eyed, freakish, ugly frozen yogurt girl. Joey glared at him until he eyed her back, baffled as to why she looked homicidal. 

"What's your deal?" he asked with a scoop of his spoon. 

She kept her eyes fixed on him. "What's yours?" 

Joey Potter, the girl of a thousand moods, ladies and gentlemen. "Huh?" 

"Never_mind_," she mumbled emphatically. 

He shrugged and she leaned forward in her chair. 

"You know, can't guys just stop thinking about sex for just one second?" 

"Okay, where'd that come from?" 

"Oh yeah, your lusty stares at that girl are just _so_ inconspicuous, Pacey. You're a real James Bond," she whispered. 

"You're jealous!" 

"Yeah _right_!" 

"Then I want to know what's going on!" Pacey's booming voice filled the room. His frustration was building up because her actions begged for him to ask what he'd wanted to ask all day. What was this 'Keep talking, reveal nothing,' policy she'd adopted overnight? He looked around hoping his noise would be lost in surrounding conversation but as he scanned the place, he remembered they were nearly alone in the store with only the Muzak humming. It wasn't even that loud a declaration but it seemed like a sonic boom. All eyes were on him. He was always ready with a funny remark. _Oh_, how he wished he could make this moment somehow funny. 

"Well, I don't know! First you-" Joey hesitated and then slid out of her chair. "Just forget it. Just take me home," she said knowing full well what that meant and how bitchy she was coming off. He deserved every bit of it. She was so tired of it all and what he was doing to her. The complications, the falsity commingled with truth, the hieroglyphic comments they shared and gazes she threw at him that he'd see contained longing if he just looked. When her love for Dawson had been unrequited, she at least held out for a few months before that last straw reared its little head. How long had she been holding out with Pacey? A day? A week? A month? Joey didn't know but she'd lost her capability for patience. No patience. Not for something as impulsive as she and Pacey had always been and for the perceptive guy he'd always been. How could he be in love with her? If he couldn't see that she was beginning to love him back then he wasn't, it was as simple as that. She stood up and threw the empty cup into the wastebasket and he clung to his, crushing it before he did the same. 

"Gladly." Amazing how fights between them sprouted so intensely, quickly and out of nowhere. Everyone, including the fro-yo girl, stared up at them making a scene and finally storming out the door together. Suddenly everything was going in fast forward instead of the dizzily languid pace that the past 24 hours had possessed. 

Pacey unlocked her door and went around the car, fuming all the while. They both stepped into the Jeep angry, when only one of them had an actual reason to be - the other was just confused. Only, it was hard to tell who was which. Actually, maybe both were both simultaneously. 

Before sticking the key in the ignition, he gave her a final chance. His face pleaded for her to stop him. The virtual seconds to the meltdown ticking away, she stared at her shoe. He started the car and sat with his hands in his pockets. Whatever he was about to forever hold was certainly not peaceful. This was it. At the last possible moment, per usual, she spoke up. 

"Why it so hard for us?" Her voice was soft but challenging, like always. She tried to phrase it just right, but Pacey, genuinely confused, asked her to clarify. 

"What?" he asked exasperated. 

"Why is it so hard for us to be friends?" Joey spoke it knowing in her heart she wanted more than that. Friends wasn't the word she was looking for, but there it was. 

The word 'friends' hung in the air like fifty knives attached to a string hovering right above his body. He was holding the string and it was just a matter of deciding to let them go ahead and fall. "Joey, yesterday was a _sham_!" 

"And you _really_ believe that. S- so you think it was a mistake." The cold grabbed her by the throat and she was already exhausted and breathless. "You think this whole thing was just some big, conspiratorial mistake," she repeated with less mocking and more emotion, trying to understand it, to grasp the concept without blowing out of the car or punching him square in the mouth. 

"I didn't say I regretted any of it." He said it calmly and his eyes glistened for a second, going dull again when he blinked. Restlessly, he pulled his hands out of his pockets only to place them on the steering wheel. Pacey's eyes shifted into the layers of glass, the windshield and the windowpane of the store to avoid looking her in the face. "I'm saying it can't happen again." 

"God, is it so wrong to be together the way we were... or are?" 

"Yes! Deadly wrong, and don't act like you don't know why because you do," Pacey exclaimed, pointing a cold finger at her. "What we're doing... some of the things we did were more than friendly." 

"I don't know why you're making a federal case out of this. Just because we acted maybe slightly impulsive-" she grew angrier and pulled her left leg underneath herself to turn towards him. It felt strange to be the one insisting that things not be overanalyzed. 

"There isn't a 'slightly' about it," he huffed as the tendrils of white smoke billowed from his lips. Their bare skin had touched. They'd almost kissed. He'd slept with her, even if only in the innocent sense of the phrase. Unless none of that meant anything to her, in which case this entire conversation was ludicrous and pointless along with everything else. "Don't you understand? Things were never supposed to be like this. Everything's s- so fucked up. We can't- You can't-" She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off. "You and I, we aren't supposed to be this close. We aren't supposed to share each other's secrets and know each other as well as we do." 

"Says _who_, Pacey?" 

"Says everybody." 

"And the way to resolve all this is to sever all ties with me?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"I wasn't asleep, I heard what you said last night. This was going to be my big sendoff. You were going to just ride off after this, just forget about everything that's happened between us and you have no right to do that, Pacey," she exhaled sharply. "You have _no_ right." 

"I- I don't... I just didn't know what else to do," he whispered with futility, the frustration inflecting clear in his voice. He gripped the upper half of the wheel until his knuckles turned pale. 

She couldn't stand it anymore. His face still illegible, Joey continued to look at him until she finally unbuckled her seatbelt. 

First, he thought, 'she's getting out.' When her hand came towards his face, he expected a slap. But the end result was the exact opposite. 

Joey ran a hand through Pacey's hair and pulled his mouth into hers hard and impulsive. She'd seen people do it in movies, but she was pretty sure they never shivered like she was shivering from the cold and from the sensation. It was so swift, she had meant to exclude time for him to process and think, especially of pulling away, but Pacey leaned forward and reciprocated, gentle and passionate. She melted on his lips indulgently, one slow tender kiss after another. 

He'd wanted her to kiss him back for so long, he was achingly numb throughout. They were still parked in front of the shop, but he didn't care. Eyes lightly shut, Joey's hands were on his neck and in his hair and his glided up and down the small of her back. Smelling her sweet scent he'd lost himself in yesterday and feeling the lips he'd only imagined tasting pressed against his, he had to touch her, to absorb just as much of her as possible before it was over. They lingered together before she broke them apart from the kisses in all their soft, tortuous brevity. He still held on to her for a moment after she'd moved away and he heard her heavy open-mouthed breathing in the silence of the car. 

"I won't let you ignore this now. We have to deal with this." 

"Wait, that is the only damn reason why you kissed me just now?" Disbelieving, his voice grew higher yet remained the same volume "Because now it's tangible and we get to _deal_ with it? Well, I _was_ dealing with it. You just had to complicate things... I didn't need you to do that." Her lips were red and swollen and her eyes were furious. She shot upright, her back ramrod stiff, and furrowed her brow at him, appalled that he would even think that. 

"_I_ needed it," she informed him in one warm breath and the fierceness in her face floated away. 

The silence was especially silent now. They listened to the show falling on the hood of the car. A muffled sound of nothing. Sitting for what seemed like a year, Pacey muttered ashamedly, "I'm sorry about... the plan," so low it was imperceptible. He couldn't lift his eyes from the ground. "I'm sorry I ever considered it. But I want you to know that-" 

"No, I'm sorry about... I shouldn't have- If you don't think- if you don't think that we should- I... " Her sentences came out short and choppy. She sighed. The heater finally kicked in and they basked silently in its aqueous warmth. "Listen to us," Joey laughed bitterly, "we aren't strong enough to yield to our feelings yet we aren't strong enough to walk away from them." Pacey shook his head. 

"You know why I didn't yield to them, but... I was never going to walk away from you, Jo." 

"I know," Joey whispered. If there was anything in the world that she believed in, it was that invariable truth. 

The question on the tip of their tongues was the same. 'What do we do now?' It was also the question neither knew the answer to, nor wanted to answer. So they didn't. Not yet. 

Pacey started the car again and tapped the gas pedal to back out. Joey traced the map of lines on his warm palm with the pad of her thumb and then he felt her hand slip liquidly into his, squeezing it once or twice. He smiled at her and she smiled back and suddenly it all made sense. 

For now, they were together, in the moment. They were 16 again and nothing else mattered... and everything was beautiful. 

The end. 


End file.
